Our Lady of Paris
by Berserkeroo
Summary: A young, robust bell ringer learns to find and assert independence from his adoptive father in order to help a dancing gypsy girl, but things are more than what meets the eye. Wreck-It Ralph/Older!Vanellope von Schweetz (Jawbreaker). Fix-It Felix Jr./Sgt. Calhoun (Hero's Cuties).
1. Prologue: Bells of Notre Dame

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** _**Warning, this fic**** contains humor, dark moments, character death, and religion. If you find any of this offensive or can't take a joke, then I don't think this fanfic is for you. For **_**_the sake of all other Jawbreaker and/or Hero's Cuties fans, please exit the fanfic. Your exit can be found in the address bar, the previous webpage button, the exit window button, or the exit tab button. Thank you for flying Berserkeroo Airlines! XD_**

Now that I've had my fun, here's the other A/N: This all started when I thought, is it me or does WIR sound familiar? Then I concluded it was similar to the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I was talking to one of my friends on the site and she kind of agreed with me. We talked it out for a bit and it convinced me to write a WIR/HBND parody crossover thing. :P I've been leisurely writing this for a while, and would have started posting after Level Up! was complete, but since she said that there didn't seem to be enough Jawbreaker around here, I decided to remedy that and start posting it. It's not a long series and since I'm back in school, I'll probably limit it to one update every Saturday. Without further ado, here's the fic and as always enjoy. :3)

* * *

The chorus of kindred voices carries over throughout the beautiful French city. Bells soon mingle in with the melodic voices, giving it a refined sound. A middle-age male gypsy with receding hair was setting up his caravan in the town square of Paris; the town was vivacious and in full bloom. Years of honed skill came in handy as he avoids the cork that was once upon a wine bottle. He spots the curious eyes of children in the distance. With a final tug he finished his preparations and entered his nomadic abode. The quartet gathered around the colorful convey. Just in time, the bells in the distant cathedral rang with great gusto. A small chuckle came from the back of his throat, as he knew the reason behind it all.

"Ode to joy on this glorious day. I have a most magnificent tale of those wondrous bells," the gypsy said as he takes his eyes off the bell tower. "Well what's so special about Notre Dame? The whole town can go there," a young boy asks with a confused look at the tower. "What's so special about Notre Dame? Only the most exciting tale in my arsenal! It is a tale of a mysterious man, a beautiful gypsy girl, and a monster most vile. Listen if you will, and spot out who's who, in the tale of Our Lady of Paris..."

* * *

Saturated in the eerie darkness, the gentle patter of a disturbed water surface enriches the crisp, silent air. Taciturn and perilous, a destination was sought in the monotonously shrouded city of Paris. A thin pole gently prods the still waters once more. Black cloth drapes over the pole, revealing the concealed, cloaked male steers the boat through the dank waterways of the town. Silent rejoice soon shone forth when the docks were in sight. A red haired woman caresses her child hidden behind a pale sheet. "_Soon my little one we will be through the city and reach the Court,_" she promises in a whisper. In sync with the glee radiating off of his mother, the child responds in kind with a few excited gurgles of his own.

Two males and a woman hush the mother-son pair as they disembark from the boat. "_Mon cher if we are to make it to our friends safely, you'll have to keep him quiet or we might run into-_" Cursed were the words of the man who spoke them, for in their shortcoming the loud whines of a Friesian stallion trailed from a nearby alleyway. Fear stricken, the men try to quench their drying throats while the women subtly backtrack away from the impending onslaught. Accusation and glares were cast at the rower who was just as equally shocked. "_I had no hand in this I swear!_" he whispers. In the cool awaiting air, the haunting trots of the horse grew louder and louder. Silently, the troop tries to return to the vessel, but the rower was already traveling down the watery route; lest he be caught. "Coward! Come back!" the leader of the group hissed.

Looming with the menace as if he himself was composed of a thousand men, the diminutive man makes his appearance from the grim shadows. Though not as threatening in size, the man himself had one thing that they all feared; political power. Two armored males rode upon dark brown Clydesdales alongside the impending terror of the gypsies. "_Minister of Justice Turbo..._" one of them simpers. Radiating against the pale moonlight, a row of yellow teeth pull into the subtlest of sadistic pleasure of their fear. He spat in the direction of the band of nomads. "Disgusting vermin!" he scoffs with despise and bigotry, "Don't worry, you'll be _handled_ soon enough. Come along quietly and I will… attempt to make my punishment swift. No promises though."

All eyes were on the advancing judicial figure, knowing well enough that the promise was hollow and their fate would resign as cruel and merciless as their brethren before them. The burly gypsy male glances back at his consort with a look she knew too well. Survival was a must for their bundle of joy so with a bereft sigh; the women took to different directions. Turbo hisses at the fleeing women. "After them!" he orders, but their devote mates tackle the guards off of their horses. "Fools! Those two better be in shackles when I return. I'll get those gypsies myself — _particularly the little thief_," he grits his teeth. The horse whines with a haunting fervor as it goes in pursuit of the escaping woman.

The bitter winter winds bit at the exposed skin of the fleeing gypsy; even crueler, the fierce gale strained the airflow to her abused lungs. Her heart was pounding mercilessly in her chest, which grew more sporadic, the instance the echoes from the black's equine cry drew near. "_Kyrie Eleison. Kyrie Eleison_," she silently prayed as she nears the church. She bangs vehemently against the large oak doors of the cathedral. "Sanctuary. Please give us sanctuary," she pleads as the black contours of the horse come into view.

As if they were the heart of the chilling tempest winds, Turbo and his massive steed were upon her. "Give that to me you vile woman!" he demands as he goes into a tugging skirmish between the mother and her child. Seeing that she wasn't going to let go nor was his strength superior to the protective drive of the mother's love, he kicks his horse in its ribs, causing him to buck about uncontrollably. The stallion's sharp, black hooves kick the gypsy in the head, shattering her skull it in one blow. The viscous liquid of life seeps profusely from her concave cranial wound.

Turbo laughs in victory at the claim of his success. His laughter is halted once the cry of an infant comes from within the sheets. Pure, unadulterated disbelief terminates his triumph. "A baby?" his black eyes fall upon the baby. He couldn't justify the murder of the woman — even if she was a gypsy — to the Palace of Justice. He would lose his job. "You deceptive little... _Oh well, I'll just have to get rid of it and fabricate something,_" he hisses as he places the child onto the ground. He pulls at the reins of his horse, rearing the creature up in the process.

Just as the killing blow was about to be dealt, the voice of the mournful archdeacon scares the stallion; making him miss the child completely. His hands visibly shake at the sight of the wounded woman on the holy ground of Notre Dame. Speech left him once he confirmed that she was dead. Slowly, he covers his eyes so that he didn't have to see her any longer, but that didn't negate the heartless words of the Minister of Justice. "I am doing the work of the Lord. This demon spawn must be exterminated. Now get out my way Archdeacon Fix-It." Turbo grits his teeth at the brunette male lifts the child out of the cold.

The archdeacon violently shakes his head protest and disappointment. "You've just murdered an innocent woman who claimed _sanctuary_… yet you've killed her anyways. You've attempted to murder a defenseless infant, and now you tell me to stand down so you can fulfill the deed?" Felix Sr. asks in shock. "She ran away. Had she not tried to elude justice, she would still be here. I did nothing wrong and you can't prove it!" the pale man defends. "Lie to yourself as much as you desire, but the eyes of Heaven cannot be deceived! The reach of your power can only go so far, and the blood of an innocent is on **your** hands!" the holy man chastised.

Turbo gazes up at the cloudy starless night. He gulps as he looks around the church in distress. He couldn't risk getting rid of an archdeacon; too many people would notice. "All right, all right, all right... What do I do?" he glances over his shoulders to assure that they were alone. "Une vie pour une vie. _A life for a life._ Take care of him in the stead of the mother you took from him," the archdeacon instructs with a look of some relief that Turbo owned up to his actions.

On the outside Turbo's expression was placid and stoic, but internally he was seething with rage. Just as frigid as the atramentous night, a collection of soothing breaths escape his chapped lips, but reluctantly he responds, "Fine, but I have no place in my home for him. Let him live here," he offers with a glance towards the boy. "In Notre Dame? But where?"

A pair of discolored yellow eyes went to the dark bell tower. "Up there will do. The poor child would be ridiculed if he were to live a normal life in sight. He is gypsy-born after all. I'm just looking out for his best interest." The lie slithered off his tongue like satin. Felix Sr. didn't want to be the first to admit that realistically, Turbo had a point since his department made the laws of the land, but agrees nonetheless. "What will you call the boy?"

Turbo quirks a brow at the question, but rolls his eyes. "I'll call him Wreck-It Ralph," he smirks wryly. "_Heaven knows how he just ruined my life and my plans!_" The archdeacon pinches the bridge of his nose, but knew that this is the best he would get from the judge for the time being. Gently as if the child was his own son, he folds the covers over the child and hands him to his new_ father_. He takes the deceased gypsy inside to lay her body to rest, while the court justice took the newly dubbed child up to the bell tower, where he would assuredly be spending the rest of his life.

* * *

(**A/N:** So yeah... That happened. Uhm, just making a note to those who are reading Level Up!, the chapters are far shorter since I'm working with a source material. Level Up! chapters usually range from 7-11 pages, Our Lady of Paris will probably be around 4-7 pages at the best. Hope you guys have enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you guys next Saturday. ;3)


	2. Out There

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** LexisTexas2000: Thanks for the kind review. :)

Guest: Well, if you think that, I'm sure someone else will, so how about I add an extra chapter at the end to give an analysis to compare the two? It's not like I mind it or anything.

It's Saturday, which means another chapter for you guys. Hope you guys enjoy it and another Disney character will be making a cameo in this fanfiction. Maximus from Tangled. I figured that since a horse was in HBND, why not have a famous Disney horse — who also made a cameo on WIR — make an appearance as the loyal steed.)

* * *

Twenty years from that woeful night, the infant grew into a man — a sinewy tall man. Rippling with anticipation, the muscles beneath his shirt began to twitch as the task at hand was drawing near. With the faintest roll of his chocolate colored eyes, he literally hops to his job. His burly hands pull on the long ropes that send the bells into a bout of syncopated bliss. Proud, pure, and true to their nature, the bells run with a cordial richness from the high bell tower and down to the town below. After giving the bells their final tug for the morning, he spots the silhouette of his three best friends — Zangief, Cyril, and Bowser — on the wooden floors of the lower bell tower down below. The rugged young man puts Ralph into a headlock to ruffle his already wild auburn hair. "My bestest buddy Ralph! You make ringing bells art form, no?" He releases the younger male from his not so tight grip.

Ralph shakes his head to regain his strewn about hairstyle. "Art form? Yeah right. What's really an art form are all the preparations going down below for the festival. Look at the get-up on that guy on the stilts," he says as peers over the edge. He didn't fail to notice the cringe coming from his friends at the mention of the_ f-word._ As if he had a bad itch, Cyril scratches his chin, deep in thought. He pulls the other two men into a circle — making the bell ringer curious about what was so secretive. "It's decided," the necromantic concludes with a grin. Ralph has never seen his friends look so mischievous in his entire life. "We're sneaking you down to that festival!" Bowser said with toothy smile.

"Are you guys crazy? Turbo would never let me go! He'd go into a fit and probably cut off my foot," Ralph exclaims with a dramatic splay of his hands to said anatomical part. "Then get fake foot," Zangief says as if it was obvious. "I don't want a fake foot!" the bell ringer hisses. "That's why I said sneak you dimwits," Bowser snorts. "We sneak you down, you have a blast, and we'll watch out for Judge Turbozo," he says with a false sense of eloquence. "We'll have you back up before it's time to ring the bells. It's in the bag Ralph. No one will even know."

Before Ralph could accept or deny the plan the sounds of footsteps came from below. "_Turbo! Hide!_" Cyril whispers. Just as the minute man makes his ascension up the bell tower, he scans the area. He spots Ralph messing with a pile of bricks at the table that Turbo had _generously_ gave him. "Have those rejected dregs been up here again?" he asks as he looks around the place again. "You mean Zangief, Cyril, and Bowser? Nope. I thought I spotted them in town helping with the -" he clamps his mouth shut to prevent the impending wrath of the man — but to no avail. "You were looking at that blasphemous festival again weren't you?" The judge soothes his nerves as he thought it wasn't worth getting angry before taking to his advising duties.

Turbo places a plate of chocolate cake onto the table with platonic look on his face. "Well? And here I was nice enough to pick you up a piece of that stupid festival you fantasize about," he drawled. "Thanks," Ralph says as he eats the slim piece of cake. He cringed a little at the bitter taste, but it was the closest he's ever been to the festival. "I swear I'm too good to you my boy, but that's okay. No one but a saint would be oh so kind to one such as you. Now be a good bell ringer and stay in the tower. I wouldn't want you wrecking things as usual. Not to mention all of the gypsies that will be down there. You wouldn't want them to try to taint all of my hard work in trying to save your soul now would you?" Bowser peers down from within one of the bells with a snarl at the arrogant judge and readies a loogie to fall on the pompous runt. Before he could get the chance, another set of steps came from below, causing him to immediately slurp the spit wad back into his mouth.

Exuberance radiated from the face of the archdeacon as he examines the splendor that came with the magnificent bell tower. "You're wanted down in the city Judge Turbo," he says with a smile. Turbo silently excuses himself with a glare going towards the holy man. As soon as the coast was clear, Zangief, Cyril, and Bowser slid from their hiding places. "Can you believe the nerve of that guy? _No one but a saint would be oh so kind to one such as you_. Bah! Il est assuré humble," Bowser finally spits out the loogie he was saving for the judge. "Whatever, he's gone. Let's get the plan underway. He'll be setting up in the changing booths over on the east side of town-" A gasp came from behind the scheming group.

"You're planning on sneaking Ralph out of the bell tower aren't you? Turbo is going to be madder than a March hare when if finds out. Sancta Maria, he'll probably cut off your foot Ralph!" Felix Jr. exclaims as he peers over the edge of the tower. "Then he get fake foot," the burly brunette says as if it's no problem. "How many times do I have to say I don't want a fake foot Zangief?" Ralph exclaims. "What's wrong with fake foot?" Zangief asks with genuine confusion.

Cyril slaps his forehead as he calls his friends to attention. "You won't need a fake foot if he doesn't find out; and he won't find out if you don't go and snitch on him Felix. You know Ralph has as much right to go to the festival as anyone else," he says with folded arms.

Felix was conflicted between his duties as a holy man and being a good friend. _Was it really lying if you knew something, but didn't say anything? Was not snitching really a sin?_ He strikes his open palm with his fist. "I just remembered my dad wanted me to get more candles," he said as he walks away with a final glance towards them. "I knew Felix wouldn't let us down. Now on with the plan. First we..."

* * *

Beating heavily upon the paved cobblestone road, the sharp hooves of a pristine, alabaster stallion resound through the hustle and bustle. Just as striking as he was, his rider was a voluptuous woman with a blond bob cut and a slight pout on her full lips. The stallion looks around the city with a hint of awe, but keeps himself in check; they had important places to go. "Maximus: scent," she orders as the horse presses his nose to the ground to follow the trail of their employer. His nostrils come across a pair of nearby guards, but shook them off. "Hey woman, keep that vapid horse's muzzle off the armor!" one of them men barked.

The black armored woman stops her steed with a light tug. The guards looked at each other as they thought they saw the horse smiling at them. "Maximus, sit." The horse sat before he went into an equine fit of laughter. "It's heavy! It's really heavy! Get it off," the shorter guard begs. Maximus eases to his hooves with a snort of superiority. "You're going to be in real trouble lady," Winchell says with gritted teeth. "I don't think so," she pulls out a gun with an intricate barrel and green markings trailing its entirety.

The pair visibly shakes in their rattling armor at the unique gun design. _Only one person had that gun, and she was deadlier than the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse_. "Tamora _Crackshot_ Calhoun!" one of them sputters out. "We didn't know**_ you_** were the mercenary Judge Turbo called for. I take it you're looking for him? Follow us," the other gulps. "Now that's more like it," she hops off of her stallion and addresses him to his face. "Memorize the path to the Palace of Justice for me. I'm going to go scope the city to see if I can make a little impression on the boss," Calhoun says with a smirk. "You really are as relentless as they say," Duncan says as he brushes the mud off his uniform. "And that's what gets me the big gilders. Now stand out of my way!"

The two men took the horse and stood at attention to the retreating features of the gun for hire. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" they salute. Maximus rolls his eyes at the guards and pulls himself out of their grip. He snorts as if to tell them _well let's go!_ Surprisingly, they understood and lead the way through the preparations to the festival.

Calhoun roves the streets as she surveys the area for a good target. Loud laughter and claps come from a circle of workers on break. Cheery rhythmic music plays as a pair of black booted feet dance around the circle with zeal. The gypsy smiles as she moves about with grace, and as soon as the music stops, she tops everything off with a final dramatic pose. Applause echoes throughout the circle as coins were flung into the hat placed by the older gypsy. Curious at the loudness, the mercenary waits as the crowd disperses; a black haired gypsy girl and an elder gypsy man at the heart of the dissolving circle counting the coins. "_Perfect!_" she thought as she eyes the dancer.

"You two! You're both under arrest for theft!" she barks with two sets of chains at the ready. "Theft? We aren't thieves! We earned it," the girl huffs. The man notices the unique gun in her holster. "Vanellope, watch it. That's _Crackshot Calhoun_. No one can outrun her shot," her father warns. "I'd listen to the old timer if I were you. I'm getting paid to take every one of you peddling little crooks off the street by any means necessary. Now come quietly and I won't have to hurt-" Calhoun says as she nears the pair. "Not happening Admiral Airhead," Vanellope sticks her tongue out and ducks the shot aimed for her shoulder. The captain looks at her gun in shock; she missed! "Papa, fuir! Hey Cracksnot Calhoun," she bellows provocatively.

The blond growls and goes in pursuit of the cocky dancer. Just as she turns a corner to follow suit, she runs into a short man holding a multitude of candles. "Oh jiminy jaminy," he groans as he goes about to collect the candles. Felix glances up to apologize for his lack of attention only to have his breath drift away. "Oh my Lord on high," he kisses the rosary on his necklace and runs the sign of the cross from his forehead to his lips then over his heart. "Sorry," she quickly apologizes before leaping over him to go after her target.

Vanellope slips through the crack of an alleyway that leads through the opposite side of town. The mercenary takes aim. "_Bad move to escape in an alleyway when your pursuer has a gun_," she groans. She rummages through her pocket to find what she's looking for; a small blue ball. She throws the ball to the ground, causing a blue flash to coat the area. Calhoun recoils at the bright light. She scans the area to see that her target escaped. "Oh it is so game on!" she vowed to the air.

Upon the rooftops, Vanellope lets out a sigh of relief as the pesky commander left the area; no doubt to meet the jerk who hired her. She rolls her eyes and shimmies down a nearby pole.

* * *

Calhoun struts into the Palace of Justice with a stoic look. Her eyes come across the familiar small features of the Minister of Justice. The short man notices her entry with a toothy grin. "So glad that you took my offer Calhoun. The justice system could use a woman of your _talents_. I am a mere face of the courts and can only do so much to keep those vermin off the streets. They're terrorizing the city," he growls as he paces around the room. "I know. I've seen it for myself. The tricky little swindlers were at it before I got here. They're such cowards. They come out the day of the festival and use the civilians as shields," she spits.

"And that's why I need you! You never miss. With your help I can cleanse this city of these criminals and things can be of a holier virtue around Notre Dame. We'll both be praised amongst the courts and in the Heavens as the ones who rid Paris of such immoral beings, but I need to find this place they call_ The Court of Miracles_. That's where they hide and breed like the vile rats they are!" Turbo looks through the glass stained windows. "I'm not looking for recognition. I'm a woman of justice and if they need to be brought to justice, so be it. I will not have the wicked defiling innocent people."

"Such a virtuous woman you are," a new voice droned from the background. A bald man with dull green eyes emerges from the shadows with a placid look towards the mercenary. "Judge Sour Bill!" Turbo sneers with greeting. "Judge Turbo," Sour Bill acknowledges while ignoring the man's clear disdain towards him. "I see you're using government funds to pay Ms. Calhoun here to do your bidding? Are your guards not sufficient?" he asks with a raised brow. "My guards just need a little... help. The gypsies have been on the incline!"

Sour Bill shakes his head in disapproval. "Is it a crime for them to find love and have a family? _Honest to the Lord, our God, your obsession with purging the land of the gypsies..._" he sighs. "Nevermind, it's not my place to interrogate you. I have better things to do than entertain your delusions," he says with a monotonous voice. "Good day Judge Turbo. Good day Ms. Calhoun." The green cladded judge leaves the palace with his head leveled evenly.

Dark intent drips from her small employer and percolates throughout the lobby of the justice building. Calhoun glanced over her shoulder to see that Turbo was indeed seething with irritation towards his fellow minister berating him like a child. She ignores this to address another matter. "I'll start working when I get half of my pay," she states. Turbo throws a small pouch her way. "_That was quick. Seems that these gypsies are a really big problem_," she thought, but took the pouch. The loud cheers from outside signal that the workers have finished their preparations and that the festival was about to begin.

* * *

Vanellope scans the area as she backs into someone. "Ah!" Her fist was ready to punch the unknowing person. She sighs in relief when it's just her father, Candy. "Don't do that. I could have clobbered you," she hugs him. "I'm looking out for you. I'm just happy you managed to escape that insane mercenary," Candy said as he ruffled her hair. "I learned from the best gypsy alive how to escape any problem," she winks at him. "Don't think flattery will get you out of everything. Now come on. We have to get you ready for the festival," he pushes her into a nearby tent.

Calhoun scans the streets, particularly for the gypsy that got away. She grew a personal vendetta against her in less than a minute; the girl just knew how to get under her skin. She grits her teeth as the girl probably ran away to _The Court of Miracles_. "Coward," she spat. Her eyes went to another suspicious bout of behaviors happening in the streets. A few kids were enjoying a skit between three men.

"What you just say about my mother?" One of them slapped the other upside his head. "Nothing. I love your mother. She's a very nice woman, ya know," he responded in an attempt to soothe the other gypsy. "You saying that my mom's attractive? That you'd try taking her out on a fancy date or something? That's it!" The two get into a brawl with toy bats. "You got dirt on tunic you fools!" The third jumps into the fight with an oversized mallet and smacks both of them over the head. Stars swirled around their heads before the two fell unconscious. "C'est la comédie," the third said as he leans against the mallet. The kids go into another fit of hysterics before throwing money at the entertainers.

"_They may not be thieves, but they're still gypsies; plus I'm under contract. Merde! At least I get to make up for earlier_," she thought before taking action. "You three. You're under arrest!" The trio turns with horror. "For what? We didn't do anything!" The quintet of kids blocks the woman's path. "Why don't you law folks leave the gypsies alone!" one of them spoke up. "Yeah, they're nice people," another agrees. Calhoun had recoiled. "_Children are defending them? What is wrong with this town? They're defending their own nuisance._" She glances around the nearby caravans to see that a gypsy couple was giving away free food to some of the people who couldn't afford food at the expensive town booths. "_What the fu-_" She ruffles her short hair in frustration. "_They're suppose to be pests and they're feeding the poor! That runt wants me to lock up innocent people. Ce petit menteur!_"

Maximus whines from behind her and taps his hooves onto the cobblestone road. Calhoun glances over her shoulder to see her steed trying to get her to mount his back. "All right, I'll leave you alone for now, but the second I catch your hands in someone's pocket, there will be a nice pair of iron cuffs waiting for the three of you," she swings her leg over her horse's back and rides off.

* * *

The disguised quartet slides down the pillars of the cathedral as quietly as possible. The two already on the streets gaze around. "_All clear!_" Cyril whispers upward. Ralph and Bowser slide to the streets. "All right, everyone remember the plan?" Bowser asks. Everyone nods, with an irritated Zangief glaring at Cyril. "Zangief hates you!" he states as he blows a brown curl from his face. "If we want to keep Turbo's eyes off of Ralph, we have to give him something worth noticing," he defends. "So Zangief had to dress in drag?!" A vein starts to throb in his neck. "I thought we all agreed on helping Ralph? You're the perfect distraction. Men in women's clothing is a sacrilege and Turbo will notice that for sure," Bowser snickers. "Now lets have some fun!"

Jubilant music rang across the town square as the voices began to go in song. The crowds start to gather at the heart of the town, separating the friends. "Ralph!" Zangief cries out. "We have to get to him now!" Cyril says in panic.

Candy spots Ralph who seems to be lost. He pulls him into a side hug as he continues his spirited antics to ensure that the lost man was having a ball. Ralph seems to be enjoying being amongst the people for the most part, but he knew that he had a plan to stick to if he didn't want Turbo to skin him, or chop off his foot. He cringes at either of the outcomes; or if he was really _lucky_ he might get both.

Ralph successfully eludes the enthused gypsy as he takes shelter in the masses. He looks around for his friends, but to no success. The throngs of the crowd push him from the livelihood of the Feast of Fools and into a gypsy who was exiting her tent. The two stumble back into the tent with Ralph landing right on top of her. He heard a small squeak come from beneath him.

"Easy big boy, you'll have to buy me dinner first," Vanellope taunts with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Ralph went into a babbling fit as he scrambles off of the flirty gypsy. "I.. uh.. yeah.. erm... sorry," his face went full blown red. "Relax buddy, it was an accident. Sheesh, you're as red as a cherry," she chuckles. "You aren't hurt are you?" she holds her hand out to help him up with a smile. "I should be asking you that," he laughs with a hint of embarrassment as he takes her up on her offer.

"I'm a tough girl. It would take more than a Stinkbrain like you to do some real harm to me. The name's Vanellope, Vanellope von Schweetz," she shakes his massive hands. "Holy mother of monkey milk your hands are huge! What are they part of the costume?" Ralph rolls his eyes at the vixen. "Oh ha ha. The name's Ralph by the way," he offers with a wry expression. She shrugs off his response places a luxurious crimson tiara onto her head as she continues preparations.

Vanellope glances backwards at the still present bell ringer. "Not that I'm not enjoying your presence Ralphie-boy, but I still have to change my clothes, that is unless you were expecting a peep show," she sticks her tongue out playful while exposing her bare shoulders. Ralph's face went red again and he starts to stutter. "I'm just ruffling your feathers pal, but I would like my privacy if you don't mind. Why don't you stick around awhile and watch me dance later?"

"Uh, sure..." He says as he filters out of the tent. "_Man, she's got moxie..._"

Panic was on the incline in the midst of the crowds, as the trio was still in search of their missing friend. "How in the nine circles of Hell do we lose a guy Ralph's size? Come on! He's like nine freaking feet!" Cyril grumbles to himself. He turns a cloaked man around to find a blond burly man sneering at him with a raised fist. "Wrong person buddy," he throws his hands up in surrender. Bowser glances off to the side to see a short man on a black Friesian stallion. He covers his face as the judge passes him. "_Guys! Turbozo is walking around the streets!_" he warns. "_We have to hurry!_" Zangief whispers in urgency.

Turbo dismounts his black horse and perches on his pedestal, like the king he depicts himself as. Calhoun jaunts amongst the crowds to see if there was any trouble to be spotted, but couldn't find any for now, which was really starting to piss her off. Soon after, she caught sight of her employer, but she decides against berating the man about wasting her time. Maximus trots through the streets until they're near the judge. "The city is as clean as a whistle Turbo," she states with a deadpan look on her face. "Impossible! You're just not looking hard enough!" he hisses. Her steed snorts in outrage, but she steers him away from the pale man. "Just ignore him boy. We're only on contract for a few two weeks anyways," she pats his thick neck affectionately. He shakes his long platinum blond mane.

Candy struts through the slowly clearing streets of Paris with a look of triumph. "Come one, come all!" he boasts loudly to gather attention. "We have a special little treat in store. The finest dancer in all of France — and no you can't date her," he warns while shaking fist towards the crowd. This earned him a few boos and hisses from the guys. "Ah, you'll live you big babies. Now... Dance dear Vanellope... dance!" A bright blue flash temporarily blinds the crowds until sultry music begins to play.

Turbo glanced to his hired help. "See, I told you that you weren't looking hard enough. Just look at her!" he makes a gagging noise. "No thanks, I don't swing that way sir." Tamora rolls her eyes at him sneering at her bold sense of humor. Maximus snickers at the man's appall. "Watch it whitey or you'll make good horse glue," he promised. The rider-mount pair glares towards the judge.

Ralph manages to get a good view of the stage, but quickly bobs out of the way once he sees that Turbo isn't that much further from him. A pair of black eyes went to where the tall figure was once standing, but brushes it off. "O_h my God that was close. I think I'll just shuffle out of sight and not push my luck_," he thought as he pushes away from the stage. Vanellope notices the familiar face making a run from the stage. "_Of all the rotten nerve!_" She takes a breath as she continues her display. "_What am I thinking? He's probably being shy. I know the perfect remedy for that._" She takes a loose pole and vaults over the crowd to land in front of the escaping man. "Leaving the party so soon?" she winks.

The crowd around them whistles in encouragement as she takes a garment and wraps it around his neck to pull him in closer. Candy resisted the urge to ruin the show from the background, and kept his cool; well he tried anyways. "_That little minx!_" he throws his hat to the ground and starts stomping on it. A few eyes went to the man throwing a tizzy. "What are you looking at? Never seen a one man show before?" He picks up his mangled hat, placed it on his head, and walked back into the crowd.

Turbo stands in realization as he spots bright red hair and massive hands. "Wreck-It Ralph!" he shouts in outrage. Ralph flinches as he turns to his adoptive father. Cyril, Zangief, and Bowser smack their foreheads as they finally find Ralph at the core of the issue. "_Game over man! Game over! Ralph's gonna lose his foot!_" Cyril whispers. Vanellope slowly lowers her veil and looks at the judge to try to find any reason for why he interrupted the festival. "What died in your cloak?" she asks with folded arms.

"Be silent you debased remnant of a human being!" Turbo orders. "How dare you leave your tower you overgrown ingra-" A piece of rotten fruit was pitched at the blathering court official. "Now that I have your attention, quit trying to ruin everyone's good time Judge Turbutt. No one was having issue with him until you opened your oversized mouth. Seriously folks, what's up with that? Big mouth, small body," she nudges a nearby man in the ribs. A round of laughter went out towards the judge, which only added fuel to the fire. "Insolent little witch! Calhoun arrest her for making a mockery of the court!" he orders. Vanellope rolls her eyes at what he was charging her with. "_Oh please, you're making a mockery of yourself._"

Calhoun really wanted nothing to do with arresting her since the girl did have a point, so she did the next best thing. "Winchell, Duncan arrest her," she pointed at the gypsy in question. The two guards arrive with a pair of cuffs ready to arrest her. Unknown to her, more guards arose from the crowds. "Oops..." she mutters. "Let's see that's one, two, three... six, seven, eight, nine..." the dancer counts out. "Hm, now that doesn't sound fair to me. Later," she sifts through the crowd with the flexibility of a snake.

Her hazel eyes scanned through the crowds to find her father, but she couldn't find hide nor hair of her old man. "Just great..." she mutters as all the alleyways had no pole to climb nor led to the part of the city that would take her to the Court of Miracles. "Vanellope! Gypsy rule # 23," Candy calls from on the roofs. She thinks on it. "_Rule twenty-three, rule twenty-three... When in doubt about your route, always seek another out_," she mentally rehearses. Now in sight, she finds a thin gutter that leads under a building. She glances up to see that her father had to abandon her in order to save his own hide; father or not, he was a gypsy too.

Vanellope skids into the gutter while clinching herself tightly enough to fit through the narrow entryway. She holds her mouth and breathes through her nose, as the guards seem to pass the gutter without much thought. A sigh of relief escapes her once the coast was clear. Just as she was about to exit her hidey-hole, a moisten snout sniffs around the grounds of where she was trench. "Come along Maximus, we have no time to waste with the smells of a sewer. You'll burn off that good nose of yours," Calhoun orders. The horse whines in insults for a moment, but gallops off in the direction of the guards.

"_There's no way I'm getting far with that horse having the nose of a royal bloodhound. Guess it's time for a bit of Gypsy Rule # 24: If you've found a new route — for your comrades — map it out_," she whispers as she scooches through the system of gutters. After making a few choice turns she finds a light at the end of the tunnel. "_Finally, it reeks in here,_" she mutters.

Vanellope shimmies out so that her eyes could get a decent view of her surroundings — so far there weren't any guards. She pulls herself out of the gutters to see that she was now at the entrance to Notre Dame. "Not my first choice, but it's a start," she says as she swiftly makes her way into the church. She hid behind a pillar at the sight of the short judge. To her luck — and the misfortune of another — he was busy yelling about why he should cut off the poor soul's foot; it was the guy she met in the town square. "_Does that jerk ever give an inch?_"

Calhoun rolls her shoulders as she was found unsuccessful in the manhunt, and for the first time, she was relieved that the target got away. Her eyes spot the girl spying on the _father_ and _son_. She looked like she wanted to maim the short pain in the neck. The captain snatches the girl and covers her mouth. Vanellope had her hand on a dagger that she kept on her thigh. "_If you make a ruckus he'll find you kid!_" she whispers as she lowers her hand from the girl. "_And you expect me to believe the woman who has chased me twice in one day?_" she elbows the woman in the gut and has her dagger ready for a fight.

"You want to fight in a church?" Tamora asks in disbelief. "At least let me apologize. I was wrong all right," she grouses as it was clear that she wasn't use to be on the giving end of apologies. "I'm listening," Vanellope says as she lowers the dagger. "I didn't know that gypsies are decent people. I'm just doing what my employer wants so long as it stays within contract. I don't arrest innocent people. I have no intention of arresting you or your people as long as you keep your hands clean," she continues. Right in sight she notices Turbo coming her way. She holds her gun to her. "_Claim sanctuary. Hurry!_"

Vanellope glances over her shoulder to see the man coming. "You're such a rat!" she accuses as she holds her hands up. "Oh goody. You caught the little loudmouth. Take her to the Palace so that she can be given her sentence," he chuckles. Calhoun twirls her gun and puts it in its holster on her back. "Can't do that. She claimed sanctuary before I drew my gun," she says.

"Liar! Do I have to hold you in obstruction of justice? Duncan, Winchell," he shouts out. The two guards hustled into the room with their swords drawn. Turbo looked as if he was going to enjoy the sentencing until when the newly titled Bishop — Fix-It Felix Sr. — cleared his throat. His son was right behind him wafting an incense burner. The young man seemed interested in the young captain, but didn't make his feelings known; after all this was a church. "You will do no such thing, and you two," the Bishop says with an accusing point, "... may God forgive you two for entertaining the idea." Shame riddles their face as the guards slowly lower their weapons.

With his right eye twitching ever so subtly, the judge's knew the two would lecture him; and thus he could lose his job over it. "But of course. It was only a joke after all. Make yourself right at home," he offered a forced smile. "_But mark my words: the second you step one foot out of this cathedral, you are mine!_" he vows before taking his leave. Dark voids glance towards the gun for hire. "Come along Ms. Calhoun. I could use your men as guards around the church. You are still under contract."

Calhoun was never one to break a contract so easily, and she begrudgingly goes with him. Cutting sapphires glance backwards, offering a silent nod as an apology. Of course the gypsy girl scowls at her newfound predicament. "_Well what do you want me to do?_" the soldier mouths out before leaving the cathedral. Vanellope sighs as she realizes that she is stuck in the church, at least until she could find a way out.

* * *

Archdeacon Fix-It places the incent back onto it's hooked perch. He turns to his father who was just about to leave his office. "Father," he asks softly. The Bishop turns around with a listening ear. "What is the love life of a man of God, more specifically, a highly revered holy man?" The elder holy man rubs his chin in thought. "Why do you ask son? Is there someone you have your eyes on?"

He flinches as if he were going to be chastised. "Uhm, well, you see..." His father chuckles at his fumbling. "Easy Jr., I'm only teasing. You are an archdeacon Felix, one of the lucky few holy men that can pursue a woman. If archdeacons couldn't, then you wouldn't be here now would you?" The senior Fix-It says with a strong hand on his son's shoulder.

Bishop Fix-It Felix Sr. turns to leave once more, but not before uttering these words. "I think she's a nice woman too son, just be wary of someone who willingly works for Judge Turbo."

* * *

(**A/N:** Hope you guys enjoyed it, and to the Level Up! fans, I'm just about done with the next chapter so it should be up by either later today or tomorrow. :3 See you guys next Saturday.)


	3. Sanctuary!

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** Well, I'm recycling a character in this fanfiction. Vanellope's mom from Level Up! If I ever need a mother OC for her, chance is that I'll use Confection so just a warning. She won't be making many, if any appearances in the fanfiction after this, and you'll find out why soon enough.)

* * *

Vanellope stretches out on one of the pews in the cathedral's sanctuary while yawning. She glances about to see that the archdeacon was shining the bronze statue of Jesus Christ on a wooden cross. He glances back at the awakened gypsy. "Morning sister," he tips his hat off to the woman. "Morning," she offers in a kind yet awkward way. "If you're hungry, I have already set a few of the missionaries out to gather something. They should be arriving any minute now," Felix says.

A loud crash comes from the wing that held the kitchen. "And that will be them," he pinches the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he had to pray really, _really_ hard for his childhood friends. "Thanks," she smiles at the holy man before making her way into the kitchen.

Quickly she ducks out of the way as an apple is soaring overhead. "Jesus Christ," she mutters as the men were in an awkward position of mangling each other; Bowser had his hands around Zangief's neck, Zangief held Cyril by his tunic with his fist ready to punch him, and Cyril held rolling pin over Bowser's head. She clears her throat. The males scuttle to attention, but sigh in relief once they realize that it wasn't Felix. "Had us scared for a minute," Bowser chuckles. "I just came to get breakfast," she offers as she gathers a plate and a few utensils. Curiosity beams through her eyes, as she never really had much use for utensils since she was always on the run.

"Wait, I know you. You're that gypsy from yesterday that got our brother in trouble," Bowser huffs. "You mean all of you are Stinkbrain's brothers?" She looks at the weird assortment before nibbling on a slice of bread. "Well not biologically. We're a weird cornucopia of what we call a family; all of us were orphans," Cyril explains. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find Ham-hands would ya?" she asked between bites.

"Why should we tell you?" Bowser asks with a raised red eyebrow. "Someone has to keep that boy on his toes, and who better than a dancer," she strikes a pose with a smirk. Zangief nudges his friends in the ribs before gathering into a circle. "_Is it me or does foxy lady like Ralph?_" he asks. "_Ralph goes out for one day — **one day** — and he already has someone after him? Oh come on! I've been working on dating the plumber's sister for years and he scores in one day? That is so unfair!_" Bowser grumbles. "_Cry me a river Bowser. Ralph doesn't get to enjoy life like we do so if a lady wants him, we can only be encouraging,_" Cyril says with the most reason. "_But she get him in trouble yesterday. We don't want just anyone with our brother. She must have qualifications,_" Zangief whispers with gusto. "_Well I'm a good dancer who makes her own money and I'm attractive,_" the brunette whispers from beside the trio.

They jump out of their skin at the surprising appearance of the girl. She chuckled before she took a bite out of one of the nearby apples. "Sneaky little street rat ain't she," Bowser pats his sporadically beating heart. "I like her," Cyril says out of the three out them. The other two look at the _older brother_ of the group.

"Ralph is in bell tower. If you can't find it wait for bells to ring and that should lead the way," Zangief instructs. "See now that wasn't so hard," she smirks before leaving — but not before taking another apple. "This girl is trouble with a capital 't'," Bowser says with folded arms. "I thought you of all people would like a fellow troublemaker," the skinny man offers. "That's it," he pulls him by the shirt with an awaiting fist. Another person cleared their throat. "Not you agai-" They notice it's Felix this time with an expectant look on his face. "Felix! We were just..." they stammer. "Cleaning the kitchen?" the small man says in a disbelieving look. "Right..."

* * *

Ralph does a few warm-ups stretches to get ready for his duties. He cracks his massive hands once he was finished; it was only a matter of time before he needed to ring the bells. "Some place you've got here," a feminine voice echoes from behind him. The bell ringer jumps away from the unknown person until he sees the familiar dancer from yesterday; staring about in awe. "You!" he gasps in shock.

Vanellope gives him a side-glance that held a little irritation. "Do you always forget the name of helpless women you topple over or does it take a little more for you to remember?" she blows one of her stray locks towards the large man. "Watch your tongue. Do you have any shame? This is a church for crying out loud," he reminds her. The gypsy pays little attention at the male berating her.

She gasps as she leans over the edge of the tower to get a view of the city. "I bet the king of France would pay a butt load of money for a view like this," she says leaning a little more over the edge. "You trying to commit suicide or something," Ralph asks as he notices how close she was to falling off. "You give me too little credit Ralphie-boy. I have very_ sharp_ reflexes," she states as she jumps over the edge to demonstrate.

Ralph screams as he looks over the edge to see where she went. The mischievous young woman was playing around the hoops of the pillars below the tower. She cast him a wicked smile that was clearly mocking him. Before long she was back in the bell tower with the auburn haired bell ringer. She spares him a glance as he climbs up the posts to get to a rope. "What are you doing?" Vanellope asks as she lies out on the stone ledge like a leisurely feline.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm about to ring the bells," he says before gripping the rope. With a slow breath he pulls the ropes, which sends the bells into a beautiful rhythmic paroxysm of sounds. Shimmering with wonder, the hazel-eyed woman was captivated by the bronze bells as they swung gracefully with the sounds of their victorious chime following soon after. The sun pierced the lightly clouded sky, hitting the bells with an almost golden luster. Her heart skipped a bit as she watches the man tend to the massive instruments.

Ralph glances back down at the girl since she was quiet for once in their short time of meeting. He notices her eyes glistening up at him as the sun strikes down on her at just the right angle. For a minute he almost forgot to pull the rope, but went back to his task. Every other pull of the rope he would spare a glance at the woman who clearly wasn't going to take her eyes off of him anytime soon. He silently thanked God that this was the last pull that the bells needed for the time being because he didn't know how much longer he could stand her _examining_ him.

Just because his duties were finished didn't mean that the girl wasn't done eying him. "Are you going to keep looking at me all day?" he asks. "A gypsy either eyes things she likes or things she wants to steal, and since this is a church the latter is out of the question," she retorts. Her eyes fall upon his massive hands, which he notices. Ralph hides them behind his back as if he were ashamed of them.

Vanellope slides off of her perch to go to the bell ringer. She circles him like a panther on the prowl, which was making him a little nervous. "What are you doing?" he finally asks. "Studying you. I'm curious as to why such a nice guy like you is so defensive about such an interesting feature," she said, taking one of his hands from their hiding place. Ralph was conflicted between telling her and keeping that information to himself. _Well, what could it hurt?_ "All I can do is wreck things. Turbo said my mother tried to get rid of me because I would slow her down, and lo and behold she died trying in the process. Despite how much he hates gypsies, he took me in when anyone else would have probably let me die in the snow. As you can see I'm really big so I tend to break things a lot easier so he raised me up here with the bells; they're a lot sturdier than anything else I've ever came into contact with, so I was given the job to ring the bells." His eyes went up to the only thing that he took pride in.

The gypsy opens his palm and starts to trace the contours of his hand. "What are you doing?" he asks. "Palm reading. The palm is connected to the body in ways that people wouldn't dare to believe," she states as she traces the final line to his wrist. "Want to know what I see?" she asks him with smirk. "Uh sure."

Vanellope starts at his _heart line_. "This is your heart line. It shows what kind of person you are when it comes to the matters of the heart. You've... had a very unhappy life, but see how the line curves this way, it means that something good will happen in a matter of time," she starts as she traces over to his _head line_, "You'll be making a monumental decision that could change your life — hopefully soon," her thin fingers come across his _life line_, "This line is short and shallow; someone's been manipulating you Ralph, but what's interesting is that the line breaks off; that means that something's going to change." Her eyes glance up at his deep brown eyes before going back down to his palm. "Well aren't you a lucky guy. You have a_ fate line_. Not many people have one you know?"

The sound of footsteps interrupts her from telling him what lies ahead. "It has to be Turbo! Hide!" he says as he eyes the steps. "I've got nothing to hide about. He can't do anything to me and he doesn't own Notre Dame so he can stick it up his rear," she huffs. "Don't get me in more trouble." She rolls her eyes and climbs a rope to hide in one of the bells. Just as she secures herself in her hiding place, the man in speaking arises from the steps. "Did I hear voices?" he asks his _son_. "I don't know. It's just me and the bells; all alone," he sits at his table.

"Good. I wouldn't want anyone — especially that gypsy girl — up here. She'd corrupt your delicate little mind. They do that you know. She'll fill your head with her little webs of lies and then try to rob you blind, of course you have nothing of value so I don't know why she would even bother," Turbo chided as he examines his nails. "I brought your dinner for the day, unfortunately I can't stay; duty calls," he thought he heard a snicker come from the bells, but shrugs at it. "I even brought you a dessert. The civilians had some of that cake from yesterday so I decided to give it to you. I want as little to do with that horrid holiday so you can have it," he says. The judge walks to the archway of the bell tower; he glances over his shoulder.

"Ralph, I'm serious about you hanging around that gypsy girl. She'll ensnare you with her tricks and that would be the most reckless thing that could happen to you. You already ruin everything you touch. Don't let her seal you to that permanent fate."

Turbo turns on his heels and stops in the middle of the room to examine the bells — then finally takes his leave. The heavy oak door closes behind him. Vanellope slides down the rope before swinging down to Ralph. "Thought that jerk would never leave," she glances over to him. "You're not really taking what Turdbo said to heart are you?" Ralph actually chuckles at that. "I'm sure Bowser would love you for that one."

"I don't think I'm his type. _I hear he's got a thing for the plumber's sister_," she whispers the latter as though it was a _real_ secret. Vanellope gives a mock bow to his continuous laughter. "What kind of gypsy would I be if I couldn't make someone laugh?" They both go into another round of laughter.

* * *

The trio passes Turbo on their way up to the bell tower. They ease the door open to hear two people laughing. They peer over the edge of the floorboards to get a peek at the two _hitting it off_ as Bowser put it. "Zangief feels like stalker eavesdropping on them," he retorts to Cyril before going back to observing their relationship's progress. "We aren't stalkers, we're just..." Cyril tries to think of something. "Observationalist?" Bowser offers. Unknown to them Felix was coming up the stairs to check in on his friend. "_What are you guys doing?_" he asks in a whisper.

The three scream before tripping from their post. The four tumble down the stairs before falling at the bottom — poor Felix was at the base of the pile. "Dear sweet mother of mercy, get off please!" He claws at the ground in an attempt to free himself. Feminine laughter caught the group of trespassers in surprise. "Eh Stinkbrain I think we've got a few peeping Toms," she chuckles at their embarrassment.

"Me? No! Never! I'm an archdeacon for Heaven's sake. I just came up here to check on Ralph. These three-" Zangief covers his mouth before he could get too far in his tale. "Were just about to do the same thing, but since you two seem _busy_, I think we'll come back later," Bowser says before they scramble to their feet and leave.

Felix brushes off the dust from his robes before taking his leave. "_I'm going to pray before I throw a tizzy._" He glances up to see that Vanellope had left, more than likely to get more acquainted with Ralph.

* * *

The archdeacon walks down large hallways of the cathedral until he reaches the sanctuary. He addresses the cross before going into prayer. The prayer was brief and soothed him greatly. Just as he got to his feet he heard metallic footsteps enter the sanctuary. He turns to see Tamora Calhoun analyzing the church's layout. He jumps as she glances his way.

"Easy archdeacon, I'm not here to start trouble, just curious about what Notre Dame looks like," she chuckles. "I haven't been in a church for years with this free-lance job of mine. It's really beautiful," she states as she looks through the stained glass windows. "Well thank you ma'am, I take great pride in keep_ our lady_ up and running. She's been in the care of the holy men of my family for quite a few generations," he admits with a hint of pride at the accomplishment. "That's quite impressive," she whistles. "Why thank you. I'm done for the night and I'd be happy to show you more if you want," he offers.

Calhoun taps her chin in interest. "_At this point, if my choices were between staying in the church and my job, I'd be one step closer to being a saint,_" she thought with a chuckle. "I'd like that archdeacon Fix-It," she smiles. "Please don't be so formal. I really don't like it when people do that. Just call me Felix." _Well there's a shocker._ "Alright _Felix_, show me the way."

The pair walks out of the sanctuary and begin their tour down the hall with various statues commissioned for the church.

* * *

Vanellope balances on a rope that leads from one end of the bell tower to the other. She blithely saunters on the rope beginning a dance with no tune. A sudden gasp almost threw her off of her rhythm and balance. Her eyes cast down to the man she's been getting to know for the past week. "Sheesh what are ya doing? Trying to make me fall," she chides. "No, but what the heck are you doing? You're... dancing on a rope," he stares at the girl as she balances on balls of her feet. She takes out her scarf, which adds to his enticement. "It's something my mom made up. She called it _tightrope walking_, well more like tightrope dancing since she danced on them. It was a part of her act..." Her eyes went out to the vantage of Paris; she seemed to grow more distant.

Though she managed to maintain her balance, Ralph knew something was bothering her. "Are you okay?" he asks, which snapped her out of her daze. "Huh? Oh, yeah..." she walks further until she's at the center of the rope. "You don't look it," he persists.

"I don't want to talk-"

"You know more about me than I do about you Vanellope," Ralph adds before she could deny him. "My mother was going to teach me her moves, but she died, so I had to learn it on my own. Well, dad watched over me, but that's all the help that I've ever got. I only learned because she left a book on how she developed it," she glances down at him.

"You want to know why I can't stand Turbo so much?" she asks him with darkness shrouding her eyes. Ralph certainly didn't expect things to take this turn. "Uh, why?" Vanellope swings from the tightrope from her knees onto another rope. She swings again until she reaches the platform nearby Ralph. Slowly she walks up to him until she was a fraction away from him. To be honest, she was starting to scare him. "He killed my mother..."

* * *

It was a warm summer's night. All were tucked into bed; almost all that is. Several silhouettes cast against the midnight skies. Many gypsies were huddled together as they examined the Palace of Justice. _King_ Candy, as all the other gypsies dubbed him, walked into the heart of the hoard. "Listen up! Judge Turbo has been a predator on the prowl when it comes to our frères et soeurs! He is harboring five members of our family in there to be executed tomorrow at sunrise. Are we going to sit back and take it?" he boasts. "No!" the crowd jeers. "Now that's what I wanted to hear! This is going to be a toughy, but we can manage thanks to Coni." A cream skinned woman with black-brown hair and hazel eyes walks forward with smirk; around her ankle was a young girl around the age of six. "Mom are we really going to save our friends from Turbo?" she asks.

Confection caresses the girl's cheek. "We are Vanellope, not you. You're still too young and you have a lot more tricks to learn before you can help out. Just stay right here and learn," she says before eying her husband. Vanellope huffs, but knew better than to debate it. "Don't sweat it Vanellope. When we're a little older, we'll be sticking it to Turbo too!" Gloyd said while rubbing his hands together.

"I'll be tipping the spear on this one. I'll use my tightrope walking and get over to the Palace to open the_ front door_ so the rest of you can get in for the rescue. Taffelot you'll need to be quick on picking the locks. We don't know how many guards we're up against," she commands. "I've got the swiftest hands on this side of France mon soeur," Taffelot said as he _magically_ pulled a coin pouch out from his hands before throwing it back at her. She snickers. "_God I love that rotten scoundrel._"

"Okay we have the plan so lets make this quick. We've got a few hours until sunrise and couple of minutes before the alarm rings," Candy said.

Confection tests the rope leading from the rooftop to the Palace. To her relief it was secure. She makes quick work of walking the ropes. She opens a window before going down to the second floor. Ever evasive she remains unseen. She holds a mirror up to the window to give off the signal. The horde sneaks over in groups of three in thirty second intervals. "_Okay we're on the second floor and the others will be in the stocks so lets go,_" she whispers.

The group arrives to the holding cell with little difficulty. Everyone seemed acutely aware of their surroundings, but some paid a bit more attention to their situation. Confection glances over to Candy with a knowing look. "_This is too easy. We've only had a handful of guards on the way down. There's no way Turbo would be this relaxed the day before an execution,_" they seemed to both conclude. A few others seemed to take notice as well.

Taffelot owned up to his promise in making quick work of the locks and freed their comrades. "_Candy I think-_" Before another word could be muttered the sounds of soldiers ready for battle chorused above head. "Damn!" one of the gypsies cursed. The group ran up the stairs, knocking a few of the soldiers out of the way in the process.

A plan started to chart its course in Confection's head. "Candy lead everyone out through the back, I'll distract them and go out the way I came. These clumsy oafs won't be able to follow me," she said. There wasn't much Candy could do about the plan since they were pressed for time and unwanted company was literally right around the corner. She delayed her departure for a while until she could see the guards. "_Hey boys,_" she called with a wink before taking off in another direction.

The guards didn't see any of the other gypsies, but they knew that they had to have something or Turbo would be furious. They followed hot in pursuit until she broke a window and started making a mad dash across a rope. She chuckles as none of them could follow her, just as she expected. "Later ya lame-os!" she taunts until she felt the rope start to bob.

Confection glances back to see that they were cutting the ropes. "Didn't think they'd do that," she cursed as she staggers across the rope. "Almost there, almost there..." The rope snapped separating her from the rope. She grips the rope just in time to swing safely to the ground.

Heavy hoof steps came from behind her as a pair of discolored eyes and a wicked grin pierced the fading night. "Typical gypsies. _We have to save our family. We have to do it now,_" he mocks in a high voice. "It doesn't have to be this way Turbo and you know it! You-" she was cut off by the short man. "Don't you dare say what I think you were going to say!" His black horse trots around her in a predacious way. "Guards!" he barks.

The heavy tromps of footsteps fill the courtyard, cutting off any means of escape for her. "Take the gypsy wench and bring some rope and wood," he orders. Confection's eyes grew wide with fright. "You can't do this!" she shouts. "It's not like the public would know. A gypsy is a gypsy and they'll never tell the difference," Turbo chuckles as he rides off to town square.

Upon the rooftops the group watched on as the execution was well on its way. "Dad, you're not going to just sit there and do nothing!" Vanellope pulls at his pant legs. She looks at the other gypsies to see if they were going to do something; anything would do at this point. "None of you are going to do anything? She risked her butt for you!" Tears were leaking down her face. She felt a hand on her shoulder; one of her closest friends, Taffyta, was just as devastated as she was.

A loud voice boomed in the town square. "... witchcraft, theft, and treason! She has refused to recant so it is my greatest despair to sentence her to **death**!" Turbo held his head low to the ground as his shoulders shook. To the audience's eyes it looked as though he was crying, but to the _criminal_ she could clearly see he was laughing. He took the torch and tossed it into the kindling.

Confection struggles against her bonds as the flames blaze to life with a terrifying roar; greedily lapping away at the flesh around her ankles. The flames were relentless as they followed the trail of burning flesh up her tender legs. Tears stream down her face at the pain as the smoke begins to burn her lungs. She coughs as the fire gnaws at the skin on her arms — searing through her clothes, muscles, and then her bone.

The embers were up to her hair, easily burning her down to her scalp. Her vision was fading as the smoke started to roll heavenward. As if the pain weren't enough, an agony worse than her torture befell her. The last thing she could see was the gypsies on a nearby rooftop paying their respects. The grief on her lover's face didn't bring her much comfort, and then she saw _it_. The unrelenting anguish on her daughter's crying face; she was watching her die. "No... No!" her voice rasps before falling into a pitch of silence.

* * *

Vanellope's eyes clouded over as her face was bathed in the citrus glow of the sunset. She snaps back to attention when she realizes she was starting to worry Ralph. "Sorry it's just..." She didn't get the chance to finish as she was enveloped into the warm hug of the bell ringer. A sense of relief overwhelmed her at the sudden embrace. Not many usually wanted anything to do with her after finding out that she was a woman with emotional baggage. Hot, glassy tears well up in the corners of her eyes, but she refuses to shed tears because of her mother's murderer. Instead she unleashes her pent up trauma in a muffled scream in Ralph's shirt. "I hate him! I'm so mad and hurt and angry... I..." she fights the tears that were practically begging to roll down her cheeks. He tries his best to pacify her, but he knew that she'd have to stop when she was ready.

Ralph wouldn't openly admit that he was a little bitter towards his mother for trying to abandon him — at least not right now with Vanellope in his arms. However the thought of her leaving him just to continue the life of a gypsy; he felt a little betrayed. In a way he thought she deserved it, but here Vanellope was — the daughter of a gypsy — bereaved over the loss of her mother by the very man that raised him. He sighs as he looks out towards the setting sun. It was obvious at this point that losing a mother, gypsy or not, was something that he needed to rethink upon.

* * *

(**A/N:** What? Don't look at me that way. I said there would be character death, and we aren't finished with it just yet either. It's tame in comparison to what I originally wrote for her execution.)


	4. The Bell Tower

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** So Jawbreaker fans, I am on a roll here right? Two fanfic updates in one day? *bows at applause* Thought I would post Level Up! first since people were waiting on that one a lot longer than this one. Doesn't matter much, right? Just posted a few minutes behind the other. *ducks random knife* Okay, apparently not. Anywho, as always, enjoy the chapter.)

* * *

Later that night, after emotions were settled, the couple lay on their stomachs to gaze upon the stars. Vanellope was content with pointing out and teaching Ralph about the constellations. "... and over there is Orion with his two hunting dogs, Canis Major and Canis Minor, fighting Taurus. He's a real pervert y'know? He was chasing after seven sisters," she pointed out the Pleiades not that far away. "Who knew stars could be perverts?" he laughs at the thought.

A bird flew into the bell tower, piquing the curiosity of one of the two. A note was attached to its leg. Vanellope took the note and read it. She smacks her forehead in realization. "Oh boy I haven't been to the Court in about a week and dad is flipping out about me being captured or dead. Great..." she drawls out. "What are you going to do about it?" Ralph asks. "I'm going home for a few hours just so dad doesn't go bonkers. _Can't risk getting a gypsy bird intercepted by Turbo either_," she rolls her eyes.

"Are you nuts? Turbo is waiting for any opportunity to catch you out of Notre Dame! He has guards at every entrance and exit of this place. You'll get hung at the gallows!" he warns. "And if I don't go, dad might do something crazy that might accidentally reveal where the Court is to Turbo. I'm not letting my family be found by that creep," she tells him as she sits on the stone ledge.

Vanellope turns in a three-quarter view to see that she's clearly worrying him. "I'll make you a promise then. I'll be back by sunrise to help ring the bells. Plenty of time to get to the Court, see my old man, and come right back," she promises with an extended pinkie. Ralph chuckles at the gesture. "I think you'd need more than a pinkie to wrap around mine." She smirks. "I guess you're right about that. How about I pitch you something sweeter?"

Before he could question what it was, she pulled him down to her level and gave him a peck on the lips. It didn't last but a few seconds, but it was more than enough. He didn't kiss her back, but simply stood and enjoyed every second of it. She titters at his bliss before slipping off the edge.

Down below, Vanellope uses her scarf to slide down the pillars of the cathedral. She comes to a stop in the middle of the pillar as she sees Calhoun riding her horse patrolling the area. "_I don't care if she helped my butt once. I'm not risking getting turned in._" She waits until the mercenary and her steed were a decent ways away before continuing her descent.

Maximus snorts, as he picks up a familiar scent. Just as he was about to turn his head, his rider pulled his reins. "We're leaving her alone Maximus. Lets give another _round_ before we go in for the night," Calhoun says before turning the horse over to the other direction. The white stallion rears upward as they almost bump into Duncan and Winchell. "Coast is clear boys. Lets move to the west wing," she orders.

The duo glances at the woman. Ever since Vanellope entered the church, Calhoun had been acting less like the scary assassin that everyone claimed her to be. Something was up and they knew it might involve the gypsy. The pair follows her until it was the end of their shift.

"Hey Duncan, do you think that Calhoun is covering for the gypsy? I think she saw her escape," Winchell asks. "You're saying the ruthless gunslinger, Crackshot Calhoun, is going against contract? Well you might be onto something Winchell. Can't say I blame her though. Turbo isn't who he use to be," Duncan sighed. His counterpart flinches at the mention of who Turbo use to be. "You better be quiet about that or he'll have _us_ hanging by a noose next!"

The pair continues their journey until they enter the Palace of Justice. "Who's going to tell him?" Duncan asked. "Tell who what?" The guards glance back to see that it was just Sour Bill. "Judge Sour Bill. You scared us for a moment." Sour Bill raises his black brow, but shrugs off their oddness. "As you were..." he droned before walking off.

* * *

Underneath the city, Vanellope walks passed the candy-coated catacombs to reach her destination — the Court of Miracles. She takes in the sight of the underground haven. _Home sweet home._ Gasps escape everyone as she enters her home. "Vanellope!" a dark skinned girl called before pulling her into a hug. "Taffyta, Candlehead! She's back! Get King Candy!" she says. Candlehead runs to get the _leader_ of the band of vagrants. "Snow. Not breathing," she gasps.

Snowanna releases her before fluffing her afro. "Where have you been? We thought Turbo nabbed you after the FOF!" she wrung her arm through the loop of her companion's arm. "It doesn't matter. You're safe and home," the ebony skinned girl says with relief. "Snow I'm not staying for long. I made a promise."

The rainbow haired girl quirks her brow at the confession. Before any conclusion could be given, the cheerful cries of Candy could be heard not far away. "Oh thank the Lord!" He brings her into a swirling hug. She hugs him back. "What have I told you about that mouth of yours? What if he caught you? You know he has a zero tolerance for us," he scolds.

"Dad I know, but you know how much I hate him!" she snaps back. "I know. You're just like your mother in that sense, but be careful. I don't want to lose you too." Candy kisses the top of her head before pulling her along to their caravan. "I guess I taught you well since you've managed to come home." Vanellope stops in her tracks before looking at him. "About that..."

She takes a breath. "Dad I've only came back to show you I'm alive and kickin'. I need to get back before sunrise." She glances up at her father. "You just got back here. What is so important that you have to leave so soon?"

"I made a promise."

Candy knew that there had to be more to it than it just being a promise. "And?" he rolled his wrist as if to gesture for her continuation. "Well I think I found someone that I really like," she admits. Taffyta, Candlehead, and Snowanna were squealing with excitement at her confession, but knew how overly protective Candy was over his _little girl_. The trio gave a nervous smile to the man before sneaking off to a nearby part of the Court, one that was particularly in hearing range. "Who is he?"

Vanellope was surprised at how well he was taking it. "His name's Ralph," she tells him. "The bell ringer?" he asks in shock. She nods to confirm his guess. "I like him dad and I'd greatly appreciate you letting me go back to him. If I don't go back, Turbo will know I renounced my claim sanctuary and he'll be looking for this place," she explains. "So long as he has breathe in him, he'll be looking for this place," Candy noted.

Vanellope looked like she was going to give rebuttal until he opened his mouth to continue. "... but I'll let you go. You're almost seventeen and I can't dictate your life forever, just make me one promise," he asks. She closed her dropped jaw. "Name it." He glances towards the exit. "Make sure that you come back to visit at least twice a week." She gives him a salute with a wink. "That's my girl."

* * *

Turbo was fuming at the news he recently received. "She escaped? What do you mean she escaped?" he shouted. "We've checked the place. She isn't there," Winchell said, which made his employer go into another bout of rage. The diminutive man ran to the stables before taking his midnight coated horse to head for Notre Dame.

Ralph grew worried; it was passed sunrise. Vanellope wasn't back yet and it was almost time to ring the bells. A loud yet familiar voice echoed below in the halls of the cathedral; it was Turbo. Ralph could distinctly hear Turbo yelling at his _brothers_ about the location of the escaped gypsy.

"Why would we know that? She's always with Ralph," Zangief argues, but gets a punch in the shoulder from Bowser. "Way to go big mouth," Cyril grumbles. The short man stomps up the stairs that lead to the bell tower.

Turbo storms up to his son with a jeer. "**_Where is she?_**" he hisses with emphasis on each word. "Uh, who?" Ralph replies with a distant look on his face. His father barks for his attention. "You know who I'm talking about Ralph! The gypsy, you oaf!" he seethed. "My men told me she escaped! You must know where she is!"

"She's wouldn't leave with you hounding her for one, and two, what makes you think I'd know where she is if she did?" the bell ringer questions. "That she-devil clings to you more than a fly does manure!" he knew that he was being backed into a corner here; if he told him that it was true that she left, he would have soldiers all over the street, making it nearly impossible for her to return, but if he lied and Turbo found out, he'd lose his foot. A silent prayer went up to anyone to help him.

A lithe foot kicked a nearby bell to call the men to attention. Vanellope stares at the two with a look of disinterest. "You two go at it more than strays in an alleyway," she glances over to Turbo with an arrogant smirk. "As you can see Your Lardship, I haven't left." A grin that the chesire cat would envy graces her face. Her hazel eyes went to Ralph. "You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to Ralph. What happens up here isn't any of his business; after all you haven't been asking him who's been sleeping in his bed, isn't that right lover o'mine?" she says while batting her eyelashes.

The two immediately drop their jaw at what fell from her lips. Turbo glares at Ralph with conviction. "Honestly Wreck-It! In a church? Has she corrupted your little mind? Have you no shame?" he yells at him. Ralph didn't even have a comeback for this because he was still in shock. A fit of feminine laughter cut through the squabble. "Easy Your Paleness, I'm just kidding," she admits with a smirk.

Vanellope stretches before getting to her feet. She swings from the rope that was under the bell dubbed _Big Marie_ to the one that would ring_ Little Sophia_. "What is she going to do to Little Sophia?" The gypsy glances back at the thorn in her side. "Ring her, gadoy. I've been helping Ralph with the bells this week and if I remember correctly it'll be time in about three minutes," she retorts. "You've been letting her place those filthy street-rat hands on the Notre Dame bells?" he asks. "Shouldn't you, I don't know, be rejoicing that your _son_ has taken what you despise so much and kept her out of trouble? He just might make an honest woman out of me." She swings around the rope until she decides to apply her weight into pulling the bells.

Ralph blushes at her confession, but he couldn't really enjoy it with Turbo here. The small man looks over to Ralph. "I warned you about them, about **her**, but you won't listen to me. Fine, have it your way. The second she stabs you in your overgrown back, don't come crying to me," he flips the cape to his uniform. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some misinformed employees to scold."

The door below closes to the relief of the couple. He watches as she swings from _Little Sophia_ to the closest of the three triplets — _Jean Marie_. "You going to stand there and watch me do your job or are you going to help," she comments. "Right," he replies as he gets to his job and starts working the other bells.

* * *

Vanellope was watching the activities going on in the city below. For a minute she thought she saw one of her brothers — Rancis — making a mad dash with a bundle of coin pouches. She chuckles. "_If only his feet were as swift as his hands then maybe he would bring in a massive haul. Maybe I should tell Taffyta to team up with him the next time I go home. She's got some of the fastest legs on this side of Paris and her handwork isn't that bad either,_" she ponders before scanning the bell tower.

Ralph was nowhere in sight, which didn't worry her, but she was curious as to where such a large person could be hiding. She spots the basket of desserts that Turbo brought him earlier that week. "Chocolate cake? Cha-ching!" she cheers before thinking, "_He hasn't touched it so maybe he won't mind,_" she takes one of the slices before immediately spitting out the salty cake. "Oh gross! I hate when that happens! Stupid FOF prank cake," she rakes her tongue to get rid of the bitter cake taste.

Her ears perked at the sounds of something tapping against paper. Her curiosity got the better of her. Luckily for her it answered her question of where Ralph went. She quietly slinks over to where he was before peering over his shoulders. _He was... painting._ Not only that, it was a painting of Vanellope gracefully leaping from bell to bell in the tower. "_Holy cream puffs,_" she whispers, almost making him smear the wet paint.

Ralph glances back with a mild scowl at her scaring him. "I've been working on this for a five days and I'm almost finished with it. What do you think?" He stands out of the way for her to get a full view. To her surprise it captured the moment quite nicely. She glances back at him with an expression he couldn't place.

Ralph blinked a few times before realizing that he was on his back staring at the ceiling. "_What just happened? I blink and I'm on the ground,_" he thought before taking notice that a warm body was embracing him around his muscular stomach. _She's one strong woman..._ "I love it," she mutters. A gruff cough interrupts their tender moment. "As shameless as you are, even you should know not to do such vile things in a church gypsy," the voice of the judge says from above them.

Vanellope dusts herself off before charging up to the man. "Look here half pint, I've been putting up with your bigotry for **_too_** long. Say one more word to me and I'll-," she felt a massive hand clamp down on her mouth; muffling her final words. "Finally, a use for those huge hands of yours. I was in such a good mood on giving you your education lesson, but I think I'll put it off until tomorrow. Enjoy your lunch," the pale man drops the basket in disgust and walks away.

A sharp set of teeth bit on the inside of the bell ringer's palm. "Ouch!" he pulls away with a scrutinizing glare. She walks away with folded arms. "Vanellope?" She glances back at him. "Paris isn't big enough for the two of us. One of us has to go," Vanellope unfolds her arms. "Vanellope, Turbo has always been this self-righteous, holier-than-thou man." Her eyes cut through the air. "But I don't have to take his accusations. I may love to flirt, but I am not a harlot! He's got one more time before I get one of my brother's to sell him on the black market!" she barks back. Ralph laughs at the statement. "He'll be back. The only way you can ever get him to leave is if he got fired." A wicked smile curled on her full lips. "_Messing with his money **and** he leaves. Sounds like a plan to me._"

A burly arm wraps around her waist, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Fine, I'll leave him alone... for now," she promises.


	5. Hellfire

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** *wipes forehead* Phew! Sorry it's so late in the day, well night as far as this place goes, but it's done. I had to do a lot of rewriting on this chapter, and I have to make an epilogue/final chapter because of the modifications. I know I said that these chapters wouldn't be Level Up! worthy in length, but this one is like twelve pages — which I'll note, is the cut down version of what I originally had. I can't chop the chapter in half either so you guys are stuck with a lot of Jawbreaker and Hero's Cuties goodness. I think it works out for the both of us, right? Hope you guys enjoy it, because shit is going to hit the fan! Now if you guys don't mind, I have college homework that needs finishing.)

* * *

A labored and ragged, exasperation of frustration left the voice of the young gypsy. She was sitting on his muscular stomach, swatting at his face; hard enough for what should wake him up, but not too hard. "Ralph! Ralph!" She moves onto the ground and starts pushing him, but he wouldn't budge. "Ugh! Come on you nine foot... Argh! Two tons of..." After the tenth time pushing him, she gave up. "I quit." Her eyes went to the still darkened skyline. "_It's the end of the week Stinkbrain. I promised dad I would come by._"

Vanellope stretches before looking over the looming tower edge. _It's a good thing that she never had vertigo._ "I'll just have to make this a brief trip before Turdbutt comes along." Just as flexible as ever, she shimmies down the long column before coming in contact with the ground. "Freeze!" She spares a glance back with the gun-bearing mercenary for hire. "I swear to God, don't do that!" the young dancer sighs in relief. "Not my fault that you don't look before you leap. Where are you heading off to? Fresh air or something?"

Inquiry riddled her face as she thought about the woman. She was an ally as far as she was concerned, but should she make up a lie or tell the truth? Camaraderie was hard to gain to an outsider in gypsy society. "I'm... heading home to visit my father. I'll be back, hopefully before the _noble taskmaster_ returns." Calhoun snickers at the choice of words. "I would offer you a ride, but Maximus is patrolling the barges with a few of my men." Vanellope raises a brow at that statement. _That's not a horse. That's a human with bloodhound mannerisms._ "Luckily for you, Turbo said he would be in a meeting for the morning. Get back soon."

Vanellope cast a casual salute to the woman before sprinting to a nearby pole. She scales the post, making her dismount onto the nearby rooftop. Soon she was out of the gunslinger's sight. After a moment of traveling, she was in the welcoming arms of her father.

* * *

An elongated yawn echoed loudly across the massive bells of the wooden tower. Droopy brown orbs scan the nearby area in search of a familiar form, but didn't find any. Now at full attention, they snap wide open. "Vanellope? Where are you?" he calls out as he stretches his arms out behind his shoulder blades. With no response to his words, he searches for the woman. With each passing second, the search became more and more frantic. "_She's gone!_"

Boisterous voices chorus throughout the narrow stairwell that leads to the bell tower. The familiar trio of males bustle into the room with a look of glee on their face, however, their joy was short lived with the woefully sodden expression on their brother's face. Cyril — being the first to ask — speaks out. "Ralph, what's with the long face?" The hulking man cast a glance over his shoulder. "Vanellope's gone. I can't find her anywhere. She doesn't leave without telling me where she went." Bowser was the first to get infuriated. "That no good little... I can't believe she just bailed after how good you've been to her!" he snorts in rage. "Easy my friend. Little gypsy girl wouldn't just fly coop."

Cyril nods in agreement. "Thank you Zangief. She probably went out for a fresh breathe of air. You of all people know that being confined here can be a little claustrophobic." The fiery red haired male jerks his head off to the side. "Bah! How can you be so sure? She's a little troublemaker remember?" Zangief shakes his head in disapproval. "I don't know much about gypsies, but I know she like Ralph." Bowser rolls his scarlet eyes at the observation.

A comforting arm wraps around Ralph's shoulder. Cyril gives him a toothy grin. "I doubt someone else has caught her eye. She hates Turbo, and I don't think she has a thing for knights in shining armor. They're a guilder a dozen," he says in confidence. Ralph raises a reddish-brown eyebrow at that. "You'll see Ralph. She'll be back before you know it. The only guys she has seen are the guards, _Turbo_, and our ugly mugs." The other two shout out in protest. "Hey!" The older brother waves them off. They all bust out in a fit of robust laughter.

Meanwhile in the stairwell below, a pale grey ear was keenly listening in on the conversation at hand. "So the princess has escaped her tower eh?" A wicked cackle tailgates the statement with mirth.

* * *

Awe fell upon the face of the gypsy princess as it drenched in the enriched golden brightness of the precious metal medallion. Her lithe fingers trail the detail that went into the artistry. "_Dad..._" she says breathlessly. The patriarch of the band of renegades taps a small button on the side of the medal; setting forth a mechanism that expands the metal trinket into seven differently constructed designs. "You know we can't stay here for long Vanellope, not with Turbo around. We're leaving by the end of this week around sunset. I know you said you want to stay with him, but just in case he decides that he wants to run away and be a gypsy, then have this on hand. You know our migration pattern so feel free to come home." The medallion snaps back into it's more compact state. "Don't worry dad. Home is where the heart is and as long as I stop by from time to time, my home will be joyful."

Vanellope sifts through the candycombs, now heading for one of the exits of the Court of Miracles. True to her nature, she was quick to roaming the streets; taking a less scenic route that would lead her back to the grand cathedral. She winces at the sound of the bells ringing without her. "I didn't make it..." she sighs. Before she could move herself from her hiding place, the rhythmic sound of heavy gallivanting horses fill the streets. "Holy mother of monkey milk!" she curses as she adjusts her position to remain hidden a bit better.

A gruff utterance could be heard not that far away. She held her hands over her mouth so that her breathing didn't muffle out the words. "... no? Okay, then how about twelve pieces of silver, and you won't be prosecuted for the location of the gypsy Vanellope?" the guard offers the small sack. Gloyd pulls his face up in disgust and tosses the bag of silver on the ground, before promptly spitting on the money. "I'm a street rat, not a stool pigeon," he replies before spitting in one of their eyes. The other guards swiftly grab the gypsy boy before cuffing him to one of their horses. As they walk away, Gloyd notices his gypsy sister hiding nearby. He smirks at her before casting a wink her way.

Gloyd slips a small pin out of his sleeves before picking the locks on the cuffs. After feeling the subtle click on the cuffs, he raises his leg to kick the horse on the flank. The stallion rears back, knocking his rider off of his back. The gypsy male quickly leaps onto the horses back and rides off down an alleyway. "Hey! Stop!" Vanellope snickers at this _grand escape._ _Same ol' Gloyd._ She couldn't have time to enjoy the antics with the guards on the lookout for her. She needed to get back to the bell tower, and hopefully convince Ralph to leave Paris with her. It just wasn't safe to be around anymore.

* * *

Two days have gone by since the heated pursuit begun. Most of the gypsies refused to come out of the Court of Miracles with the dreaded judge mercilessly hounding ever person that even looked like they knew Vanellope's location. Vanellope stretched her arms above her head. Her back was slightly killing her after sleeping in the barn that the gracious farming brothers had let her hide in. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the first location to be looked into either.

After finishing off the plate of leftovers that she kept over night, she thanked the men before taking her leave. As she was leaving, she heard a coalition of horses coming from the hillside. "_Crap! Already?_" She noticed Maximus and Calhoun spearing the hunt. "_Now wonder. Way to go Calhoun..._" She makes a dash for the cornfields, successfully eluding the attention of the guards. She glances back to see Turbo harping the helpful farmer brothers.

The twin brothers look away from their stout older brother. "Hey Turbo," the oldest twin, Macro, says with a weak smile. "Don't _hey_ me you little traitors. Where is she?" Turbo barks. "Turbo, when are you going to let go of that hatred? It happened a long time ago," the younger twin, Micro asks. "Don't you dare bring that up, or I'll have you both arrested!" Calhoun quirked her brow at the mention of something dealing with her employer's past. _What could have happened to him to make him hate gypsies so much?_ The judge thought more about what his brother's said. "So you two did hide her! Traitors. I'll have you both under house arrest until I can properly punish you."

The guards roughly push the brother back into the house before securely sealing the door. "Turbo. Your hatred is getting out of hand. Let it go brother. It's not worth it," Micro shouts from the window. "Burn it to the ground," he orders. The other guards begin the arson by throwing torches onto the large house. "Turbo! You wouldn't kill your own brothers would you?" Macro shouts as he tries to break the windows with his fists, but to no avail. Calhoun gapes at the sight before her. "_I didn't sign up for this._" She pulls her gun from over her shoulder and takes aim for the window. "You two inside! Get down!" The twin farmers hit the floors as soon as she commands them to. The well-trained markswoman shatters the glass with ease. The brothers jump from the window and run for dear life through their fields in an attempt to shield themselves from the guards. "You traitorous she-devil! I knew you were with the gypsy."

"Consider it an honor in comparison to working for a corrupt scumbag like you!" Calhoun retorts before making an attempt to flee on horseback. "Stop her! Kill the horse if you have to." A mixed flurry of bullets and arrows were raining down heavily onto the ex-mercenary. Her skill as a horse rider was doing her little good with the combination and amount of arrows and bullets coming her way. "Maximus, I want you to flee. Find Kohut and warn him about Tur-" She shouts out in pain as an arrow pierces her armor in the shoulder. Maximus lets out a whine as he watches her fall. He jumped over the bridge in an attempt to rescue her.

"Cease fire. If the arrow didn't kill her, the fall and water will," Turbo states with a grim smile. "I want this party divided in half: one goes after my brothers, the other will follow me to find the gypsy." The search party disperses to do their task.

Meanwhile, Vanellope runs down the hill to the river, keeping under cover and on high guard. She wades into the water, and jumps back when she find Calhoun's white horse trying to sniff her out in the water; but is too panicked to do it properly. She dives under to find the blond and brings her back up for air. "_Please be alive. I don't want to do mouth to mouth..._" Calhoun coughs roughly and comes back into consciousness. "_Hallelujah — a miracle!_" She proceeds to pulls her out of the water until Maximus tries to gain possession of his friend and master. "Easy schnozzle, I just want to help." The white stallion glares at her, but meditates more on the matter. His master risked getting shot and went against contract for her, so all of her pain would have been in vain if he went against her. He snorts and points his head to his back. After securely putting Calhoun on his back, she mounted him as well. "Come on boy. I know someone who can help her."

* * *

Archdeacon Fix-It Felix was wistfully cleansing the table for the Lord's Supper that was to occur that following Sunday. He wipes his brow after his carpeting skills had came into good use. The grand doorway behind him slams open with Vanellope dragging Calhoun to the alter. "Turbo has gone nuts, and I don't have anywhere else to turn to." Felix had a mixture of emotions plaguing his face at the disheveled state of the downed mercenary. "Oh good Lord, what happened?" he asks as he helps place her onto the table. She winces in pain as she shifts her shoulder in the wrong place. "She's took an arrow to the shoulder. I can't take her to Ralph, because Turbo visits him too often and you're the only other guy I can trust. I'm going to go talk to him and get out of Paris. It's not safe here," she says before taking off to go to the bell tower.

This left the now fully conscious gunslinger under the watchful eyes of the holy man. "You're a lucky woman Ms. Calhoun." She scoffs at the comment. "Luck didn't have anything to do with that. I was _this_ close to dying," she pinches her fingers to indicate a small margin of space. "Well you're in good hands ma'am. I can patch your shoulder up if you want," Felix asks while looking around for the bottle of wine he was going to put away for the Lord's Supper. "I'd like that."

Calhoun started to strip off bits of her armor. "Oh good Lord wait!" Felix shouts before frantically covering his face and turning around. "Now go ahead..." He was red from the neck down. It took her a minute to realize what he meant, before continuing to strip down her breastplate. "All right," she warns him. He turns around to see her in a sleeveless tunic. Felix blushes harder if that were possible. "I knew you had clothes on under your armor..."

"Sure you did."

The snide remark was left in the air as he cleaned out the wound and tour off a bit of the white fabric from the table. "You're raring to go ma'am." Calhoun tests the movement of her shoulder; it still stung pretty badly, but it wasn't as painful with the firm cloth in place. "Thanks Felix. You're okay in my book." He looks away in a bashful manner at the praise, but the warmth only got hotter when the ramblings of the judge were heard from down the hall. "Damn it." The ex-gun for hire slides under the table to hide.

Turbo paces the sanctuary while muttering on about his manhunt. He wasn't very pleased about the status of the hunt and he needed to torment something, or someone, to relieve some stress. He notices Felix down the aisle. _Perfect_. "The hunt for that gypsy just cost me one of my _trusted_ and _valued_ soldiers. The poor woman was killed in action after trying to capture a few fugitives. A pity really. I was starting to care for her." Calhoun rolled her eyes underneath the table. She was half tempted to shoot him if her gun wasn't still wet.

Felix was as stiff as a deer in the headlight at the comment. He knew it wasn't true, and he knew Turbo had a knack for lying. Turbo noticed the lack of reaction, which made him become suspicious. The archdeacon flinched at the glare. "That's really too bad. She seemed like such a nice woman too. All she was trying to do was help," he finally replies with false grief. The minister of justice simply cackled at the response. "Her death won't go in vain though. We caught a gypsy that told us the location of the Court of Miracles in exchange for his life. I'll be leading an attack by the end of the night." That statement alone made Felix's eyes visibly shrink at the impending massacre. _  
_

* * *

A cutthroat glare was cast towards the unwavering bell ringer. "What do you mean you won't leave with me?" Vanellope growls from the edge of the tower. "It's exactly as I said: _I cannot leaving this tower._ At the moment, moving that many people at one time is crazy. It's suicide to try to run with all those guards and Turbo would skin my hide too for it," Ralph tried to reason. He loved the woman, but he knew that an attempt to leave now would be his death. "But you said you were gypsy-born. You belong with your own kind..." she turns her back to him. "_You belong with me,_" she whispers somewhat hurt.

Ralph walks over to her. "Vanellope, I would love to go with you, but it's not safe with Turbo on a rampage. You could try to stay here," he offers. Vanellope shakes her head to refuse him. "No. You didn't see the look in his eyes. He almost killed his own brothers, because they helped me. If he's willing to go that far, then even Heaven can't help me. I can't stay here." The burly brunette let out a sigh as he acknowledged the fact. "My band has an awkward migration pattern. At the earliest, I won't be back for a full year."

Vanellope took off the medallion that her father had given her earlier that week, and places it in his hands. She clicks on the small button. "This is a universal map for all gypsies to have a safe haven. Each circlet is a map of a city; Paris, Madrid, Rome, Bucharest, Berlin, Warsaw, and Prague. If you get the chance, will you come find me?" Ralph closes the medallion and nods. She scribbles the migration pattern for the year on a scrap sheet of paper nearby. "Hope to see you soon Stinkbrain." She exits from the tower to prepare for her departure.

From the top of the bell tower, he watched her flee the smoldering city. "_Why does the second something good happens to me, it has to run away because of Turbo?!_" He groans as he walks away from the ledge. He wasn't left to lament long with the frantic scrambling footsteps coming up the stairs. "**Ralph! Trouble! Really big trouble!**" Felix trips over himself, but pulls himself back together once he was got to the top of the stairway. Ralph looks down at his frantic friend. He noticed the marine who was hunting Vanellope right behind him. "You!" he glares at her.

Felix looks between the two of them. "No! Not her! She's on our side. I'm talking about Turbo! He said he found the Court of Miracles!" he wrings his hat in mild panic. "Oh no. Vanellope's heading there right now. It's going to be a massacre in there." Calhoun cocks her gun with a smirk. "Well are we going to sit here and cry ladies or are we going to put that pussywillow in his place."

* * *

Calhoun grumbles as she walks through the desolate grounds of the abandoned library. "Turbo can't say they're illiterate," she says as she pulls at a candlestick on the wall. A passageway opens, leading to a tunnel that takes them outside. "Another passageway?! We'll never warn her at this rate!" The males shush her in risk of alerting any of Turbo's guards if they were around.

They finally find an outcrop with a cavern on the face. As they delve into it's depths, it began to get dark. Felix skims his fingers along the walls and comes into contact with something sticky. He pulls his fingers away to smell the sticky substance. "Ew, chewed gum." They squint to find an assortment of sticky candies embedded the wall. "No offense brother, but gypsies are weird..." Ralph shrugged at the comment, because he thought that the candy-coated walls were odd too.

As they proceed, they fail to notice an assortment of figures clinging to the sticky ceilings above them. Calhoun heard something similar to clothe ripping, and looks up. The group of bandits relinquishes their grip on the walls and pounce on the group. "**Intruders!**" one of them calls out. "We're not intruders; we're allies." Suddenly, the trio was surrounded and forced to their knees in front of the _gypsy king_. "Lookie what we have here; a bell ringer, an archdeacon, and Turbo's stooge." A round of snickering went around the hollow cavern. "Bring them along. They will all be dealt with _appropriately_."

With his captives now separated, bound, and gagged, he ponders on what he should do with them. "We can't kill a holy man. Crackshot probably dragged the poor fella along as leverage. Sneaky woman isn't she," Taffytlot spits towards her cage. She kicks the bars with a glare cast his way. "Oh shut it!" he retorts before turning back to the table. "We'll release the archdeacon if he keeps quiet, and as for Crackshot... How about we sell her on the blackmarket?" Calhoun's eyes widen at her potential fate. Her and her fellow captives start a muffled argument back at the band of gypsies, but are disregarded. "Blackmarket it is," Candy says as he bangs the table with a squeaky gavel. "As for the bell ringer. My daughter was upset about him not being able to come with us. I think bringing him along as a gift would suffice? He is a gypsy after all," he says while twiddling with the toy gavel. The males at the table mutter amongst themselves before agreeing.

Vanellope pulls a curtain back with a look of mild annoyance. "Hey dad, I can't find my-" she notices her friends in cages. She runs over to the cages to cut their roping and untie their gags. "Dad, what are you doing? These are my friends!" Candy looks at the trio with confusion. "That's what we were trying to tell you!" they shouted in unison. "If it's any consolation, I was planning on bringing Ralph with us honey," he offers his daughter a weak grin. "Yeah, after selling me on the blackmarket!"

"Daddy!" Vanellope scolds him. "What? It's an honest mistake. Turbo would have her kill us if she was still on his side." Calhoun looked away from him at that statement. She wasn't going to deny it either. "I didn't come here to kill you. I came to warn you." Felix nods to confirm it. "Yeah. Turbo said that he knows where this place is and he's on his way to arrest you all." The gypsies nearby start muttering before scrambling to spread the word. "Just great. Paris is no longer safe for us. We can't wait until tomorrow, we're leaving now." A shrill scream came from the courtyard of the underground haven.

Turbo was pointing and shouting out orders. "Leave no place unturned. Arrest every man, woman, and child, and kill all who try to resist." His eyes came across Felix, and he casts his a grateful smirk. "_It was all a lie,_" Felix finally realized as he fell to his knees. "Arrest that traitor, and confine my son and the archdeacon to the bell tower. I would like a word about their behavior against the court when we're done with our bonfire." Vanellope doubles over and starts to hyperventilate. "_Fire. Not a fire. Please not a fire_," she starts muttering in a mantra. The image of the woman he loves having a mental break down hurt Ralph's heart, as the soldiers carelessly carted her away.

* * *

Felix tries for the twelfth time to pull against his restraints, but to no avail. He starts panting as he readies himself for another attempt to free himself. "Felix, what are you doing? Let's face it, Turbo's going to win _as usual_," Ralph sighs as he watches from his chained position. It brought him a bit of relief that Vanellope was no longer panicking about her imminent demise. "That's quitter's talk darn it! Oh, see what you made me say!" he pulls at his restraints again. "I don't know about you brother, but I see the lady I love down there in a pickle, and I'm going down there to save her; even if I have to die trying." Ralph stares in amazement as his small comrade's determination and devotion towards the caged marine below.

Calhoun was shouting over the spectators of his hatred and injustice. "You monster! None of these people deserve this! Let these people go," she hollers while ramming into the cage. She winces as she felt the wound in her shoulder reopening. _Not a smart choice._ "Try as you will Ms. Calhoun, but it will do you very little good," Turbo says with a sneer. He turns over to Vanellope who was glaring at him from her bound position at the stake. Lucky for her, that the judge wasn't paying attention to her that closely with her taking a small blade to start cutting her ropes. He throws a lit stick and begins his execution speech to the public.

Back up in the tower, the males could hear the speech with sheer disgust at his lies. "I'm going to do the one thing Turbo always said I was good at." Ralph starts to pull at the chains that were restraining him. The metallic links begin to wail at the force being exerted between the bell ringer and the strong bell tower structure. Felix looks on as his friend appears to be breaking the very chains that bind him. "Come on Ralph, you can do it!" he cheers on. A sweet broke out from his forehead as the veins in his arms start to strain, until finally, the chains break. Ralph looks over to Felix and snaps the ropes off of him. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" Ralph looks at Felix with perplexity. "What? I'm pumped! Let's do this thing!" he holds his hands up to show his barely visible muscles.

Ralph shrugs before grabbing Felix and slides down one of the pillars, to the flaming wooden platform.

Turbo scratches his chin in false pondering. "This looks really familiar, wouldn't you agree?" he tilts her face only to narrowly escape being bit. In her attempt, she breathed in a large amount of smoke and starts coughing. "Ah yes. You're the brat of Confection, am I right? I wonder if your corpse will burn just as finely as hers did. Say hello to her in Hell for me will you?" The ropes snap free with Vanellope staggering out of the fumes with her dagger. "You're the one who's going to Hell you jerk! You killed my mother!"

Turbo backs away, and pulls out a dagger and they start a scuffle on the wooden platform. "You're a monster. A demon in human's skin!" Vanellope says between coughs, as she successfully cuts him across his chin. He takes the cut in order to get close enough to cut her against her abdomen. She recoils and touches the freshly seeping wound. _He's just a judge. How does he know how to dagger fight?_ She looks up at him with terror. "I'm the monster? You and your kind are the true monsters. You abandon your children, leave them to fend for themselves, and then be care of estranged farmers! You all deserve death!" The statement confused her. He couldn't be talking about Ralph, because he was his father figure right? Then it dawned upon her. "You're gypsy-born!" she shouts out in realization.

The smoke starts rises higher, making Vanellope instinctively cover her mouth and nose. She looks around for some form of escape. "_Vision blurry... Can't breathe..._" She notices the blood that is oozing onto the platform. "_... so much blood..._"

The crowds gasp out as the truth was now known to the masses. Turbo looks back in horror. "No! It's not true. I'm one of you, not a filthy gypsy," he tries to deny. The crowds begin to boo and hiss at his lies. "It's time I silence you forever you big mouth. I'll lose my job, because of you; and if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me," he vowed as he nears her with his dagger above head. She raises her dagger, ready to defend herself, until Ralph charges up the stairs and jumps in the way; taking the stab in his chest. He cringes at the sharp pain. "Not on my watch Turbozo!" he retorts.

"Wreck-It Ralph!"

Ralph scoops Vanellope up, and jumps off of the stage. "Are you okay?" he asks as he makes a mad dash for the cathedral. "I should be asking you that? You took a hit for me," she says in a raspy voice. His blood slowly flows down upon her. "It's just a flesh wound."

"You morons don't just let him get away. Shoot him. Get that gypsy!" Turbo orders as he goes in pursuit of the couple. The guards look amongst each other. Technically, he was still their boss. They shrug and go towards raiding the church, leaving the cages with few guards. Felix slides underneath one of the guards. "Hey stop," the guard shouts before going after him.

Maximus comes trotting in with a band of soldiers. Kohut stares at his in danger commander and growls. "Attack!" he orders, sending the warriors out with a roar and weapons drawn. Calhoun leans against her cage with a smile on her face. "Good boy Max! Now someone get me out of here," she shouts out. One by one, Felix was working his magic with the keys and spreeing every gypsy out of their cages. Rancis stare in shock at him breaking his friends out of their cages. "Aren't you an archdeacon?" he asks. "Yes, and just like in Exodus, thus saith the Lord: _let my people go!_" Felix says before opening the lock. Rancis met up with Gloyd, Taffyta, and Torvald to start picking locks to assist with the escape. "Hey, you're forgetting someone, short stuff," Calhoun says with a wink. "I didn't forget. Just saving the best for last," he says with a thumbs up. He releases her from her bonds.

Calhoun scans the area and spots a knight with her gun. She elbows him the back of his neck. "Watch and learn why they call me _Crackshot_," she cocks her gun, and pulls on a lever on the side of her gun. Three extra barrels emerge, and she lets all hell break loose with her clearly modified gun. Felix watches on in amazement. "What a gal?!" He looks over to the panicking crowds, and gets an idea. "Can I get a boost?" he asks her. Calhoun whistles for Maximus, and the horse is at her side. "Boost."

Maximus lowers to the ground so that Felix could mount him. "Citizens of Paris! Turbo has lied to us all, persecuted our people, ransacked our city, and has been getting away with genocide for years! Now he attacks _our lady_! Stand up for your city! Ephesians 6:12!" he shouts out, earning the cheers of support from the people. Felix slides down onto Maximus's back. "That was one hell of a speech," Calhoun said before kissing him on the cheek. "Oh wowzers, I'll never wash this cheek again..."

Meanwhile, the fire from the platform started to spread across the ground. Maximus rears back, almost knocking Felix off. "The fire is getting out of control. It's going to burn the church." A flame cuts between him and Calhoun. "All of Paris will be on fire at this rate. We're going to need evacuate." He pulls on the reins, and spots Bowser, Cyril, and Zangief. "Guys, the city will burn and everyone in it at this rate. We need to evacuate. Spread the word, I'm going to warn Ralph and Vanellope to get out of there!" Judge Sour Bill puts his hand on Felix's shoulder. "That won't be necessary, I'll do it. Besides, I need to have a word with Judge Turbo," he says in his monotone voice.

Turbo charges up the stairs with malicious intent. "_Everything is all ruined. I'll have to start over. Make a new name, and it's all these stupid gypsies fault,_" he grumbles. In the bell tower above him, Ralph was patching up Vanellope's gash across her stomach while she was mending his wound on his chest. "See why I said we need to leave Paris," she said with a dry laugh. "Yeah, but you're alright now, right?" She nods before taking notice of the shifting grey form behind him. "Ralph look out," she shouts before kicking him out of the way. The dagger barely missed him.

"Keep your hands off my man bub!" Vanellope warns as she stands with her dagger in hand. Turbo cackles at her attempt at bravery. "And I'm supposed to fear you?" he pulls out a sword from it's sheath. "Oh now that's just fighting dirty," she stated as she looked at her dagger. "If you haven't noticed, I don't play fair," Turbo says as he swings at her, which she luckily dodges. Ralph charges at him, almost getting cut in the process.

Turbo smiles as he has the couple backed to the ledge of the bell tower. "Now isn't this just quant. Two gypsies, cornered like the rats they are. I should have killed you both with your mothers a long time ago!" Vanellope looks over her shoulder, and notices an outcrop. "Hey Ralph, you're about as flexible as I am right?" she asks. "Yeah, why?" he responds. "Follow my lead," she twirls off of the edge and grips the gargoyle by the neck by her knees; she has her arms stretched out to him. "You're going to have to trust me!" He looks at her as if she was insane, but jumps over the edge and grabs her by the arms. "Oh God, you're heavier than I thought!" her eyes bulge out by the strain of his weight.

Vanellope starts swinging a bit before gaining enough momentum. "You're going to have to do a lot of swinging Stinkbrain," she says as she tosses him to the next platform. Ralph yells out before grabbing the pillar. Turbo was about to swing down on her until she jumped over to Ralph, grabbing him by hands. Turbo swings down again and again, in an attempt to end the two, but to no avail.

Ralph swings them over to another platform. "You're definitely a gypsy Ralph. We could probably make this an art form," Vanellope shouts over, before swinging out of another strike. "Turbo, stop this madness at once," Sour Bill ordered with his usual _less than impressed_ tone. "Stay out of this Sour Bill. This is between me and them. If you turn back now, I'll let you live." Sour Bill pulls out a sword, and engages him in battle. "I can't allow you to do this Turbo. You're corrupt, and you have been abusing your power for too long. Your past has clouded your judgment on an innocent people, and now, all of Paris has a prejudice because of you," he says between strikes. The judge looks over to the couple who were trying to escape the fight. "The archdeacon has called an evacuation. Escape the city before the fire gets out of control."

"But what about you?" Ralph asks. "Don't question a judge, and do as you're told. Now go!" Sour Bill says with more excitement. That was all the encouragement they needed since they were heading down the cathedral pillars. Turbo cut him across the cheek with a hiss. "You let them escape. You let them escape! Now I have nothing!" he shouts in a temper tantrum. His whining caused him to losing his footing on the church's edge.

Turbo claws at the stony brim with all his might. He gulps as he looks down at the pyres below. His fingers slip, but he was saved by Sour Bill's strong grip. "It's over Turbo. Take justice like a man, and I promise it will be swift," he assures him. "I won't accept your pity," the diminutive man spat in his eye. After a bit of struggling, he succeeded in his mission, making Sour Bill lose his grip on him.

Sour Bill watches with shock and sadness as he watches Turbo commit suicide. "_Oh Turbo..._"

Now on the outskirts of Paris, Vanellope and Ralph are out of breath as they watch Paris burning. A chilly wetness fell from the sky — followed by another, and another._ It's raining._ "Well isn't that a miracle." They turned to find Calhoun and Felix riding on Maximus. The horse snorts with a smirk that shows he's happy to see that they made it out. The rain begins to thicken. "Let's take shelter in Montrouge for the night. We'll assess damage in the morning."

* * *

(**A/N**: Hope you're enjoying the twist I put on this chapter. Still true to the film with our favorite WIR characters, all bound together by a little Berserkeroo flare. The next chapter will be the last, and I'm grateful to my readers and reviewers who have stuck with me in posting this. I'll be getting back to writing the next chapter of Level Up! sooner or later. Mid-terms are coming up, and I'll be doing all sorts of work. Hopefully, I can post next Saturday for you guys, but if not, I'll hold it off to the following Saturday.)


	6. Heaven's Light

**Disclaimer:** "Wreck-It Ralph" and all characters related to the movie belong to The Walt Disney Company, and/or their respective gaming companies. Wreck-It Ralph was created by Rich Moore, Phil Johnston, and Jim Reardon. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre Dame de Paris) belongs to the Victor Hugo, and redistributed by the Walt Disney Company. Our Lady of Paris, and any characters not associated in their own respective franchise belong to Berserkeroo. All rights reserved.

(**A/N:** I could have just glued this to the end of the last chapter, but it was long enough as is, and this makes a good ending chapter/epilogue thing all wrapped in one — so it's a really short chapter. Thanks for sticking with me, and reading this parody/crossover that was going around in my head. As always enjoy. The story itself is complete, but I will be making an analysis chapter to compare the story lines of HBND and WIR. You don't have to read it, but it's more for myself and the curious readers than anything else.)

* * *

After a moment of telling the tale, Candy stretches his arms overhead with a yawn. He looks over to the cathedral in the distance; he was pressed for time at this point. The kids groan as they were eager to hear the rest. "Don't go quitting on us now sir!" a young boy asks. "Yeah! Did Turbo really die?" another boy asked. "What about Ralph and Vanellope, or Crackshot and Felix? Did they fall in love?" a girl asks as she sighs in awe at the romantic element. Candy chuckles at their avid nature towards the tale's end. "Very well, but I have somewhere to be afterwards. After Judge Sour Bill defeated the evil Minister of Justice, Turbo, he went in search for our heroes; and found them at an inn in Montrouge. Needless to say, Paris was partially destroyed, but nothing the handy archdeacon couldn't handle..."

* * *

Archdeacon Fix-It Felix Jr. cast a disheartened glance over towards his childhood friend. True, Turbo's reign of terror was over, and Judge Sour Bill took over his position, but that didn't take away from the news that he just heard. "Are you sure about this brother?" he asked as he handed him a small rucksack filled of food. Ralph took the burlap bag and put it on the convey that housed his new love and her father. "Yup. I need to see what's out there in the world, and what better way than to travel with a band of gypsies? Vanellope said that the migration takes about a year to complete," Ralph reassures with a heavy hand on the short holy man's shoulder. "But who's going to ring the bells? No one does it better than you." The bellringer scratches the back of his leg with his foot before giving a fond gaze towards his soon-to-be former home. "That's because no one else has ever tried. Zangief always said that ringing the bells was like an art form, and he's got the muscle for it too. I'll be back around the time of the next Festival of Fools."

Felix burst into tears before pouncing onto Ralph's muscular stomach. "I'm going to miss you," he sniffles. Ralph clenches his jaw in a mixed form of awkwardness and guilt. "Aw come on. Quit with the waterworks Felix. What would Tamora think?" The woman in speaking road up to the two with her own look of sentiment towards the burly male. "Just come back alive," she retorts before clasping her hand in his with a tight grip. He returns the grip in kind, but not enough to crush her hand.

Vanellope makes a coughing and gagging noise. "Oh man I'm choking on all the sentiment here. Can we get moving? We're burning daylight Stinkbrain," she says with a teasing look to her newfound allies. "You heard the lady. Got to go," Ralph says before entering the caravan. Candy cracks the reigns for his horse to start moving. The couple stick their heads out of the window to give them a final farewell wave. "See you guys next FOF. Expect our act to be top notch!" she shouts out. The young gypsy girl looks at her love. "First stop: The Chateau of Dreams in Madrid!" Ralph looks out onto the horizon with exhilaration coursing through his veins.

* * *

Candy closes the windows to his caravan to change into more formal attire. He steps out of his mobile home. The new garments confused the children who were getting ready to depart. "What's with the change of clothes mister?" He glances down to the ever-curious child. "Well, it's been a year since the end of our story, and my daughter has found the perfect man for her. If I don't hurry, I won't make the ceremony to walk her down the aisle." The bells began to ring with their usual pure richness. "Oops! Look at how time flies. Wait for me you guys. I'm on the way!" he shouted before he ran to the now restored Notre Dame. Vanellope turns to the out of breathe gypsy and gives a soft laugh, before the start of the ceremony.

The archdeacon looks around the cathedral for the turn out of the wedding. _It was massive; like every gypsy in France had turned up._ He clears his throat before opening the bible to the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians. After reading the entirety of the chapter, he began the actual speech. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

* * *

(**A/N:** This is the end of the fanfic. Please exit the fanfic through the previously mentioned exits from chapter one! Thank you for flying with us, and see you soon! XP)


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